Fali and Gideon
by IntotheMoon44
Summary: Her adventure has ended...but her children's has only begun. Fali and Gideon are like the day and night. She seeks adventures at every turn. He hides from them. She's intense and he is passive. Now, with a dear friend beginning a grave quest, they will both be tested. Nothing is for certain, but that both will be changed by the quest for one ring. Sequel to 'Rue' and 'GutM'.
1. Prologue

**Technically this is a sequel to Rue, and also Growing under the Mountain, but if you wish to just go ahead and read it, it shouldn't be too hard to catch up. For those who have read Rue and such, this is the promised story of her and Fili's children. Fali is roughly 18 and Gideon 19.5**

 ** _Fali_**

The world I grew up in was one founded on myth and legend. My earliest memories were those of sitting on the knee of my father, Fili, the Prince of Erebor, or in the lap of my mother, Rue, hearing the tales of long ago. There were few stories of humble lives to be heard. Each legend was of epic proportions (certainly for someone who's heritage was that of dwarf and nymph, and was naturally shorter in stature). I was told of almighty beings, the Valar, of brave dwarven kings, Durin the Deathless and my own great-Uncle Thorin, courageous battles, and grand adventures.

Was it of any doubt that I desired to have such fantastic elements in my own life?

Of course, there was one small problem. These legends contained very few women in them. In fact, the only female character I knew of who had a significant part in the story was my own mother, and of how she met father and Thorin and Uncle Kili and the whole rest of the company, joining them in the quest to reclaim the mountain I spent my entire childhood in. Beside her, there was my very mentionable and beautiful Aunt Tauriel, a dear family friend named Hana, whom had later married Ori, and Varis, who I admired for being a nymphian warrior in every sense of the word.

But with peaceful, well fought for, days ahead of us, and Erebor no longer under threat from flying, fire breathing beasts, the stuff of legend and myth, my beloved stories, were only that…stories.

It didn't help any that I had three older brothers who were privileged enough to learn the art of sword fighting, while I was forced to impatiently wait to grow up. Luckily, with time to grow, my mother and father agreed to let me play with them, and spar with them as I wished. Before long, I had far more little wooden swords in my box of playthings than dolls.

But I was not content to merely play forever. I wanted adventure, something like what my parents had. I wanted to see the world, and run out into it. I wanted to explore, I wanted to use a sword.

Being a princess however, I had certain duties and expectations. A princess can't run off into the valleys below the mountain any old day she wants too. I had to learn to be proper, just as my mother and grandmother had. My ladylike attributes were limited. While I could never figure out tableware or the finer bits of etiquette, I was gifted at sewing, and my love of the high spirited celebrations we had in Erebor gave me ample practise for becoming a fair dancer, and a lover of song. My feminine talents stopped there.

In the training grounds I found my true passions. There were few spars I did not perform well in, if not won. Archery was more for my partly elvish cousins, but under their instruction I was passable enough to accompany them on hunts. My family noticed this, and eventually I was given my own sword, a real one, made of fine dwarf metal and not from wood, and told I would be able to train formally.

It may not have been very adventurous compared to the doings of my ancestors, but I found the chance to keep fighting my brothers and friends until I was successful quite thrilling. I was unstoppable until I had tasted victory from someone, be it one of my brothers, my dear companion Vesper, who was the only other girl I knew of who could fight like me, or a boy in my training who refused to lose…over and over again.

It was suitable for long time, my small adventures. But I grew, and still felt the need for something bigger, and of grander purpose. My oldest brothers Frerin, and Fien were well on their paths. I had no path, and I wanted to go forth and find it. I suppose I wanted to prove myself, and taste real adventure.

I suppose I wanted to become part of the wonderful myths I had heard.

 _ **Gideon**_

I was never a very brave individual. I had books in my hands more often than blades. The tales I had heard of as a child told of war, and victory, and strength. Other children thought of glory when they heard them. I thought of fear.

The people that came before me in my line, the proud line of Durin, were strong men. Men who stood tall, and broad, and ready to fight when danger came. They did not back away, nor did they cower.

Some may say they were stubborn, or pig headed, or just plain grumpy, easily grudged people. But to Erebor, my fore bearers were heroes. And heroes were meant to give rise to other heroes, ones who would lead them, and rise to meet the next challenge that stepped in front of my proud, stubborn, cranky, but always loyal people.

It was hard enough being the third born son. I was by no means neglected, but I was by no means the sort of person that others thought would be a hero, or a ruler.

Frerin was the first born, the next in line, and the child cast of gold. He did no wrong, he worked beside father hard and long, and he fought well. Fien was second born, a golden haired imp, but what he lacked in seriousness at times, he made up for with strength and forge skills. Even Fali took after our mother with her intense spirit, and her temperamental streak. She fought as well as any boy.

The kingdom knew them all by the blond of their heads, and the fierceness of their hearts.

The kingdom knew of me for my likeness to their great king Thorin…and for never quite living up to that name I bore in my blood.

I tried to be like them, I trained, and I fought, and I was told no one would be able to hurt me for I was too good at my defenses. But I ended up with my backside in the sand more times than I cared for. People thought I was weak, the fragile babe that cried when it was scared. In a way, I suppose the observation was an easy one to make, I was smaller, more wary, and I got sick more easily than my siblings.

While other dwarfs in the peak of their stubbornness might settle affairs with a spar, I dreaded conflict. Peace was what I wanted, not fighting. Mother said my smaller frame was probably from my nymphian background. The disappearing race was short as dwarves, but much more lithe. My gentler nature, according to her, was a thing all my own.

While the explanation was appreciated, it did left me feeling terribly…different. As mentioned, dwarves aren't the sort of people known for their 'gentle natures'. Nymphs may be known for that, but I had grown up around nymphs. At least, not many…

The nymphs (apart from my loving mother) that I did know were Hana, who was one of the sweetest ladies, and then the Vesper and her family. So even the people I was told to be more like were fighters, fierce nymphs of the South, and gifted nymphs of the North, whom had also seen battle. Even Mother, though she looked so slender and light footed to me, could hold her own, and win. Her and Father sparred often, and it was well agreed that their skills matched each other so well, each fight was left as a draw.

Vesper and Fali tried to encourage me, but I hated to fight someone for no reason other than sport. Any spar or hunt I did take part in was one shared with my siblings or cousins, or friends since birth. I felt as though I was judged poorly by anyone else I went with.

I acted different. I looked different from my family, the dark hair striking out among them. At it's best it was like being a black sheep among the white lambs.

At its worst it was like being a fawn among lion cubs.


	2. Chapter 1 (The Shire)

Sitting side saddle was always a bother. How Mother ever managed it on her excursions to Dale or Mirkwood was beyond my understanding. I could sit sideways and ride, but only if the pony I sat on was going slowly, and never dared to increase it's pace. Usually this would require me to ride on an aged pony, who leisurely walked along the path, didn't startle, and was too lazy to do much of anything. Old ponies were sweet things, but I loved the young, energy filled ones better.

We passed an outlying farm then, the aged man living there looking up to nod politely at Mother and Father, then gazing over me astride my pony, riding like a man would. The hobbit's frown was brief, but noticeable. Gideon rode up beside me. "You should have shifted to side saddle." He mentioned quietly. "Mother does."

"It's uncomfortable." I replied.

"Your skirt lifts up too much."

"Oh dear, the hobbits will faint at the sight of my bare knees."

"You know what I mean Fali."

"How dare they know I have kneecaps, Gideon." I continued my teasing reply. "I'm fine. The heart of the Shire is a carefree place. Besides if I were riding side saddle, I wouldn't be able to do this." I stared at the winding path among the hills ahead of me.

"Mother! Father!" I shouted, giving them enough warning to move to the sides of the road before giving my pony's sides a swift kick. The pony sprung forward, hooves spraying up dirt. I soared past Mother and Father, who were smiling. Soon the pony and I were racing with the wind, soaring along the road, positively flying. My skirt lifted in the force of the wind, billowing around my knees, and trailing behind me in the breeze.

The path curled in and out of the hills that were springing up, and I leaned heavily to the left and right, urging the pony to turn with the path, and not have to slow down.

"Fali!" The voice of Gideon called out from behind me. I turned around to see him racing on the grass, hurrying down the hillside to reach me.

"Are you trying to race me, Gideon?" I called back.

"Fali, slow down. Look out!" Gideon shouted at me.

I turned my head sharply forward again. The path I was on was quickly curving around a hill and merging with a second path on the other side.

And there was someone coming around from the other side of the hill.

I pulled sharply on the reins, the pony backpedaling almost as it stamped into the dirt and gritted to a stop.

The person in question also pulled sharply on the reins of his own steed, our collision nearly avoided. "I'm so sorry." I said. "I was just…well, I was just-"

"Racing to Master Baggin's?" A familiar, older voice asked, with a hint of a smile in the tone.

I looked up, past the floating dust in the air, and saw the pointed grey hat, and the robes. I grinned. "Master Gandalf." I beamed. I recognized the old wizard from tales as a child, and previous visits to the Shire. When I had not been minding young hobbits the wizard had been kind enough to tell me of his travels long ago, and show off some of his noteworthy fireworks.

"Fali." He nodded, respectfully. Gideon rode up to the two of us. "And Gideon." He addressed my brother.

"Master Gandalf." He nodded. "It's good to see you again."

"Gandalf." Mother appeared, and smiled affectionately.

"Rue." He nodded at her and Father.

"I had no idea you would be coming as well to Bilbo's party." Mother grinned.

"Of course I was coming."

"No doubt one of the honored guests." Father greeted.

I peered behind the grey wizard and realised that in the cart behind him was a pile of fireworks. I smirked. The wizard always came to the Shire prepared.

"I was hoping to meet with young master Frodo up the road, but this is a delightful surprise." Gandalf said.

"Frodo?" I replied. "He's waiting for you?"

"He was the last time, somewhere along the last mile." Gandalf replied. "Why?"

"May I come with you then?" I asked. The cart and pony would be faster than my slower-paced family, and their destination was Bag End, which Frodo would not be at, if he was out in the groves awaiting Gandalf's arrival. I wanted to see my hobbit friend.

"To have a princess as my company would be a privilege." Gandalf kindly said.

"Thank you." I nodded, already dismounting the pony and climbing into the cart beside the wizard. "Oh…would it be better if I hid in the back of the cart among the fireworks? It would be a great surprise."

"Fali, we've made the wizard late enough as it is." Mother said. "You don't have the time to bury yourself in the fireworks."

"Please Master Gandalf?" I asked politely, already seeing the surprise on Frodo's face if I was to pop out of the back of the cart, much like a firework myself.

"If you manage to do so while the cart is moving." The wizard had a pipe between his teeth and was likely in a good, relaxed mood.

"I will." I promised, clambering over the bench at the front of the wagon and settling myself between the brightly colored plaster of the firecrackers.

"Until we meet each other later on." The wizard said, giving a nod of farewell, a smile, and then shaking the reins and starting the pony on its course again.

I began the rather bumpy task of settling myself underneath the fireworks then, trying to cover myself with an array of them that appeared natural. Not very easy when the cart was bouncing up and down with the trots of the pony.

"So you have come to see Master Baggin's birthday festivities?"

"I wouldn't miss a chance to come back to the Shire." I replied, moving a large green firecracker out of the way, and trying to lie back in the cart. "And by the looks of everything you have back here, neither would you."

"A hundred and eleven is a most impressive age." Was the wizard's mirthful reply. "Your elder brothers are not attending?" He continued.

"Frerin is running the kingdom in the place of father, so he could come. Jael is running about in the place of mother, seeing as she and Frerin were married a few months ago. Fien is helping them, and he doesn't want to leave Eredah with the baby. Uncle Kili and Aunt Tauriel left after we did and will arrive just in time for the ceremonies."

"And what do you think of your little nephew?"

"Flynn?" I asked, thinking of the little boy with his blond, fluffy hair. "As adorable as a baby can be, but as much of an imp as my brother was…on the whole, I quite like him, seeing as he can't pester me as Fien did when we were small." I grinned. "And Mother and Father are as doting as ever on him." I placed Gandalf's fair above me. "Can you see me, Master Gandalf?"

There was no reply. "Master Gandalf?" I asked again. "You've not forgot me back here, have you?" The wizard extinguished his pipe and began to hum and softly sing. For a moment I thought he truly had forgotten me among his cargo. "Honestly Master Gandalf…" I began.

There was the sound of someone running over grassy banks, followed by a chastising remark. "You're late." I recognized it immediately as Frodo.

The cart was stopped and I lay completely still under the bright plaster and copper fuses, hoping I was hid well enough and that Frodo wold not look too carefully at Gandalf's wares. Oh dear, it sounded like I had stalled the wizard after all. "A wizard is never late, Frodo Baggins. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means too." A rather clever reply, I thought with a smirk, biting on my lip to contain a small bout of laughter. Gandalf and Frodo, being not the ones who were hiding under fireworks in the back of a cart, could laugh openly about the joke.

"It's wonderful to see you Gandalf!" Frodo exclaimed merrily, and then the cart jolted as he leapt on. He embraced the wizard fondly, and I peered through the spaces between the firecrackers and saw his smiling face and his mop of black curls. Luckily, he seemed too happy and occupied to see my blue eyes among the cargo.

Before long, Frodo was seated beside Gandalf and the pony was walking once more. "So how is the old rascal?" Gandalf asked conversationally, as I waited for the opportune moment to spring forth and reveal myself. "I hear it's going to be a party of special magnificence."

"You know Bilbo, he's got the whole place in an uproar." The two laughed and spoke more of Bilbo. Apparently he was locking himself in his study as of late, and looking at some of his old documents mysteriously. "He's up to something." Frodo muttered. Gandalf said nothing and Frodo replied amusedly "Alright then, keep your secrets."

"Hmm?" Gandalf hummed, feigning ignorance.

"But I know you have something to do with it." Gandalf muttered to himself as Frodo continued about how the wizard had ended the Baggins family reputation by involving Bilbo in adventures. To me it sounded more like he had added more excitement to their lives, but then again hobbits were homey people.

"If you're referring to the incident with the dragon, I was barely involved. All I did was give your uncle a little nudge out of the door." Gandalf excused.

"Whatever you did, you've been labeled a disturber of the peace."

Gandalf mused over this, and Frodo asked "You're not hiding anything else from me, are you?"

"Well, there may be a certain surprise in the back of the cart…" Gandalf replied, and my body tensed, readying itself. Frodo looked behind him and at the fireworks.

"Is there one that's supposed to spec-?" He started before I shot straight up and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling over the wagon seat and into the mess of firecrackers with me. He let out a yell of surprise. Once I had tackled him down I was laughing.

"Hello Hobbit." I smirked.

"Fali!" He grinned back.

"Frodo." I nodded, as he threw back his head and laughed too.

"You came." He embraced me.

"I wouldn't leave you to eat, drink and be merry on your own." I said, returning the embrace. Gandalf was laughing at our reunion after a year with only letters to keep us close. I had known Frodo since he was a baby. He aged more quickly than I had, and now it appeared he had finally caught up with me.

Frodo climbed back over the seat and took up his place beside the wizard again, as I sat on a box of smaller fireworks and laughed with him more. "I missed you, and this place so much." I sighed. "It's lovely to be back, to see a sky instead of a stone ceiling every once in a while." I grinned. "Thank you for keeping me hidden Master Gandalf."

There was the yells of children behind us and as we passed the home of a rather grumpy looking hobbit. "Other admirers of yours." I pointed them out. The children called out to him and asked excitedly for fireworks. Gandalf rode on past the stiff and proper folk of Hobbiton. "Will you not indulge them?" I asked. "Master Gandalf, they are so sweet, surely there is one firework in here to spare?" The children looked rather disappointed. "Oh, please, Master- _Gandalf_!" I yelped out the last word as a brilliant firecracker went whizzing off. The hobbit children cheered in the middle of the road, and I fell off my box, hopping about the cart as sparks erupted from beneath me.

The wizard and Frodo were laughing, both at the amusement of the children and my reaction. "You could have at least waited for me to get out of the back of the cart." I huffed. I glared at Frodo. "Stop snickering."

He did, swallowing down the laughter with some struggle, but having more trouble wiping the smile off his face. We were passing one of the orchards of the Shire right then, and he peered to the side (probably to hide his smirk from me), then spoke up. "Look, it's Sam." He motioned to the red haired hobbit I had also known since his childhood.

"Let's go off and see him." I said. It had been too long since I had seen any of the loveable little folk that I had come to know so well here.

As Gandalf neared the turn in the road, he slowed down enough for Frodo and I to jump down from the cart. "It's great to have you back Gandalf." Frodo said in parting as we jumped over the side and went into the orchard, me pulling him along by the elbow trying to make him walk faster.

"Sam!" I called out, waving my hand that wasn't grasping Frodo's elbow. "Sam!"

The hobbit looked about him and then spotted me running over at full speed. He smiled but eyed my rush nervously, as I stopped awfully close to him, nearly knocking him over. I released Frodo in order to give the second hobbit a strong hug.

"Welcome back to the Shire again, Miss Fali." He greeted, breathing a small sigh of relief that I had not caused him to topple over, and smiling to see me again.

I shook my head with a tiny groan. "You don't have to call me 'Miss Fali'." I reminded him. "It sounds too much like a title. Fali will suffice."

"Of course Miss Fali."

"Sam." I rolled my eyes.

"You just said it again, Sam." Frodo gently informed him.

"Oh, right. Thank you Mister Frodo." He turned back to me. "Sorry Miss…" He paused as I raised an eyebrow at him. "…Fali." He finished.

"Not quite, but better." I shrugged it off. Sam was simply too polite of a hobbit to leave out the proper 'Mister' and 'Miss' when he talked to anyone.

The polite and happy nature of hobbits was one of their most admirable qualities. They were a simple people, who cared for little else above the peaceful, quaint life they had in the Shire. Those few things they did care about were good food, well brewed ale, and good pipeweed. One could easily become fast friends with them by bringing an excellent sample of one of those three things. In the case of my family, we had not left empty handed, Uncle Kili and Aunt Tauriel bringing with them another pony which would be laden with fine ale from Erebor for their companion's festivities. The thought of ale brought up another idea…

"Suppose we go down to the Green Dragon?" I asked. "That is where much of the Shire will be, and it'll be good to see their faces again."

"The Green Dragon?" Sam asked.

"Why not? I don't mind your ale very much, the company will be good…and speaking of company Sam, won't Rosie be there?" I smirked, teasing him of his fondness for the pretty hobbit lass. Though I had not been to the Shire for a year, I had seen Sam admiring her before, and Frodo joked of it as well in letters.

"Well…maybe." Sam replied, trying to act as though he was indifferent.

I snickered under my breath, leading both of them toward the cozy little pub in the middle of Hobbiton. By now, many more of the Shire folk had noticed my arrival, and the men dipped their heads, lifting their hats a degree, and the women smiled and waved. The children who were old enough to remember me beamed, and flung their entire arms to catch my attention. The children too young to recall my last visit hid behind their mother's skirts. I noticed quite a few of them were in a rush, which was a bit uncommon in their relaxed lives. Most of them were running about with food or plates and pints. No doubt for Bilbo's birthday celebration. Only things like parties were the cause of any rush here. I swung open the door of the Green Dragon and peered within. The hobbits seated at the various tables looked up, and I received yet more polite nods, smiles, and waves.

I scanned the room, returning smiles, and rushed over to the back where the barrels were all neatly stacked and girls in pretty dresses stood around a tall bench, chatting among themselves as they served the ale and cleaned the empty pints. I spotted Rosie right away, noticing the ribbon in her hair. "Hello again." I greeted them and they recognized me then, looking up from their work.

"Princess." The politer ones nodded respectfully.

"Fali!" The more laid back ones exclaimed.

"Miss Fali." Rosie smiled at me. Many of the girls reached out to give my hand a friendly squeeze or hug my side. "You're back."

"I was invited with my family to come for the birthday party." They all nodded, knowing my parents and Uncle were very good friends of Bilbo's. "I cannot believe Bilbo is a hundred and eleven…he certainly doesn't look it!" Indeed he had lived long for a hobbit, and looked as though he would continue to do so for some time.

"Who is all coming?" Rosie continued conversationally.

"Mother, Father, Uncle Kili…" I announced them all off.

One of the more shy girls, a sweet thing with coppery curls, muttered something which I did not quite hear. "Hmm?" I hummed at her. "What were you saying?"

She blushed, lowering her gaze to the pint she was polishing up in her hands. "It is nothing." She replied, quietly. A few others girls laughed at her reply.

One of the bolder girls stopped her laughter to say "She was asking if your brother would happen to be here as well?" The copper headed maid blushed even deeper, and Rosie gave her shoulder a reassuring shake.

"Gideon? Yes, he's come here as well." I replied. I sighed. "Honestly, he probably has more admirers here than he does in Erebor." Most of the dwarf lasses didn't pay him much attention, seeing as he spent so little time on the training grounds or in the forge.

Rosie smiled as the other girls giggled over my brother, and filled a mug of sweet ale. I liked the drink here, where dwarf ale was apt to be a heavy sort, this particular hobbit brew was far lighter and sweeter. It was perhaps one of my more nymphian qualities. She passed it to me and I began to search through the lone pocket of my dress for some of the silver coins. "No, no." She stopped me. "This one is on the house."

"Thank you." I grinned. By now other men were among us, trying to get drinks refilled. Frodo and Sam finally appeared, having caught up. "There you two are." I said. I dismissed myself once my two friends had their beverages and sat with them at an empty table. Frodo spoke jovially with me, and we both tried to cheer Sam up as he watched the other men speaking with Rosie from the corner of his eye. As we were all laughing over some joke or other, Gideon entered the tavern. I spotted him and raised my hand so he may notice us. He did and sat at our table.

"So this is where you have been hiding." He said. "Frodo, Sam." He nodded at the hobbits. "It's good to see the two of you again, and in such good spirits." Frodo and Sam said likewise and my brother also received a warm reception from the customers of the tavern.

"Are we required anywhere?" I asked.

"Not yet. Mother, Father, and Mister Gandalf are providing Bilbo with good company. We only need to appear in time for the party." He glanced me over. "And hopefully out of traveling clothes."

"We've plenty of time." I waved him off. "Stay with us. Grab yourself a drink as well."

"Alright." Gideon agreed.

"Try getting it from the lass with the copper colored hair." I mentioned. "She's quite nice." I watched as he did so, and the girl looked happy as ever.

I smirked to myself, sipping ale, and becoming more and more excited for the fun that was to take place tonight.

It was wonderful to be back in the Shire, where nothing could ruin my spirits.


	3. Chapter 2 (Vanished into thin air)

The welcoming I received at the Green Dragon with my sister was appreciated, certainly after so many hours of riding in from Bree. Like Fali, I rather enjoyed some of their ales. My stomach could never handle much of the dwarven variety, I found it simply too potent. There was a lass among the tavern girls that Fali had suggested I speak to. I did, giving a polite greeting and requesting a drink, which I received on the house. I thanked her, and returned to the table, where I sat with the hobbits and Fali.

The Green Dragon was alive with good cheer, many of the customers there were already seeming to celebrate before the party for Bilbo officially began. From our corner I could hear a good many toasts going on., 'To Mister Baggins!' and 'May we have as good as health as Bilbo does!' and so on. I raised my drink to give a small toast like these.

"To Bilbo." I said, simply. "May there be a hundred and twelfth birthday around the corner."

"Aye." Fali smiled and tapped her drink against my, smiling, and taking a sip after. Frodo and Sam's pints tapped against ours as well, each saying there agreement. "And to the party tonight." Fali added with a grin.

Fali, she went from one excitement to the next. She'd been dying to come back to the Shire again to run about the glens with her hobbit companions and have fun at our 'unlce' (as we had been told to refer to him as) Bilbo's party. I had been excited as well, but for different reasons. I had been wishing to seek out the quiet meadows and the cheery company, and the abundant nature. I desired to break away from the stone halls and hot summer forges, filled with gruff metalsmiths, of Erebor to have the shade of trees, and pleasant minded hobbits. I liked it here, as Fali did, because it was different here.

Fali thought it was more exciting under an open sky, and with new landscapes to see.

I just thought the slower, more passive aura of the place suited me better. Not that I would ever tell Mother or Father that. Erebor was home, and although I struggled at times to fulfill certain dwarvish images, I had family and friends and a place within its walls.

Still…it was nice to be similar to everyone once in a while.

After an hour of catching up with Frodo and Sam, the tavern was definitely busier than when I had walked in. Hobbits ran back and forth, using the kitchens in the back to cook the food that was to be served that evening (and from what they were saying, it sounded like a number of household kitchens had likewise been recruited). It wasn't an uncommon sight at that time to see some young patron come rushing inside, heading straight to the tavern girls, and asking hurriedly if they had any plates or bowls or forks to spare.

As Frodo had put it, half the Shire had been formally invited, and the other half had taken it upon themselves to come and wish Bilbo a happy birthday anyway.

"Shall we be off?" Fali asked, when she had finished her drink. "Perhaps the old bank of the creek?" She asked.

"So long as you don't fancy going into the middle of it…" Sam said.

"Hadn't we better return to Bag End?" I asked.

"We've still plenty of time before the party." Fali said. "So long as we're mindful. Besides, I won't require much time to get ready." She shrugged. She grinned up at me. "You brought your sword, yes? Perhaps we could spar? First to fall into the water loses?"

I was quiet, thinking of when Vesper had first developed that idea when we were children. I was no good against her, and even though I felt that it would end in a loss for me I had agreed, indulging her. I had fallen flat on my back, half-drowning myself. The water had been cold, seeing as it was only April at the time. Fali's glance flickered over me. "You don't have to come if you'd want to, of course." She added.

I shook my head. "Not this time." I said. "I'm sure there's plenty of plucky young hobbits to take up your offer though."

My sister nodded, turning to Frodo. "I could always take up teaching you again." She said with enthusiasm. "Sam too."

"I was getting rather good." Frodo answered.

"Maybe the next time, Miss Fali." Sam replied at the same time. He seemed not so much the dueling type. I pictured Sam with garden shears in his hand, not a blade.

"Sam…" Fali sighed. "Just Fali if you please."

"He's been calling us 'miss' and 'mister' since he was the height of my knee." I said to her. "I don't think he'll be stopping it now."

"It's worth a try." Fali went on. "We're wasting the time we do have before the party. Finish the drinks, and then we'll be off. Gideon is right in thinking we don't have _all_ day."

The hobbits took great swigs of the ale to finish it off, and then stood. I rose too, taking in the last of my drink, though more slowly. "You go on then." I said. "I think I'll just return to Bag End and sit under the oak Bilbo has in his garden. Perhaps I'll pull one of the books from his shelves. No doubt I'll be wearing myself out tonight. Some rest would be nice."

This was when things became rather unfortunate for me. At that moment, a distraught looking hobbit woman whisked out of the back of the tavern and started grabbing the girls into the back, going on about there being too much to do, and not enough people to get it all done in time for the party. Some of them were tavern girls, and others were just female customers, who accepted the duty with little fuss. Her eyes landed on Fali and I then. "Miss Fali and Mister Gideon." She gave a little bow of her head. "It's good to see you both back in the Shire."

"It is good to see you as well, Violet." Fali nodded, inching for the door.

"We could use some help in the kitchen…" Violet began to ask. "The schedule being tight as it is, you know?"

"Oh, well I would love to help you Violet, really, but I've already promised Frodo and Sam I'd spend the afternoon with them…Gideon has no engagements though."

"You don't?" Violet looked hopefully upon me.

"Well…" I began, my tongue turning to lead as I felt myself being tossed to the wolves, or rather, to the middle aged hobbit women in the kitchens of the Green Dragon. Which was worse, I did not know. "I was actually…I was hoping to sit and read under-" I stuttered for an excuse, conflict even of this minor sort backing me mentally into a corner.

"Sit and read?!" Violet exclaimed. "Nonsense! We need more help in the back. You can sit and read any old time."

I gave Fali a glare as she smiled as a thank you and walked out the door, saying "I'll see you later at the party, Gideon."

"Fali, wait…" I called futilely after her.

"Come along now." Violet grabbed my elbow, and promptly escorted me into the sweltering kitchen, standing me before a great basin of messy pots and pans. "You can manage this, surely?" She asked.

I gazed around me, looking for an escape and finding none. I sighed, answering with a polite "Yes, ma'am.", and grabbing a dishrag stiffly.

/

Hobbit women of the middle aged sort were polite, bossy, curt, obsessed with detail, motherly, and above all, did not tolerate a single speck on their clean pots and pans. By the time I was dismissed, the party was due to begin very soon, leaving me with little to no time at all. Needless to say, I was forced to run back to Bag End, burst in trailing dirt onto Bilbo's clean floor, and wash up in an instant.

I must have looked a mess as I pulled off the traveling tunic, splashed water onto my face, and with drops still trailing down my nose pulled on a fresh tunic of finer quality. There was a knock on the door. I suspected it was Mother, wondering what had kept me, but it was Fali, who appeared to be in just as much a hurry as I was.

"How could you leave me with her?" I asked.

"Sorry, but you always sit and read, wherever we go." Fali replied. I supposed such was true. "Was it horrible?" She asked.

"No." I replied, knowing there were worse things that could have happened. "But if I hear the phrase 'Mister Gideon, you have missed a spot' one more time, my head shall burst."

"Oh dear." Fali laughed softly. "Oi, could you help me with the laces?" She turned to reveal a lopsided bow at the back of her dress. "I tried, but they never stay straight."

I sighed. "If you tied them more slowly, you wouldn't tangle them so."

"I hadn't the time to go slowly."

"Fali, you had all afternoon, unlike me."

"Admittedly, I got distracted." She confessed. "Merry and Pippin…"

I snorted at their names. "It figures you run late when you meet with those two."

"They're perfectly fine people." Fali defended them as I untied the bow and retied it, straightly.

"Oh, they mean well." I agreed. "But they do cause trouble, even you have to agree."

She shrugged, sighing and muttering to herself that I was right.

There was a second knock, and this time it was Mother. "Where on earth have you two been?" She asked.

"The creek bank…"

"The kitchens in the back of the Green Dragon." I replied honestly with my sister.

Mother looked briefly confused at the replies, but then shook her head, and put on a warm smile. "Well, at least you're ready…if at the last possible moment." She sighed. "C'mon now. The party is due to begin, and you two should be among the first to wish Bilbo a fond birthday." Fali did not require much more encouragement, as Frodo tumbled out of his quarters, now in fresh clothes as well, and the two of them raced merrily off. I followed behind them, taking a more leisurely walk to the open field that was big enough to host a party of such size. One could hear the music from far away, mixing with the sound of crickets and frogs in the creek bottoms.

I watched as my mother and father went along, arm and arm, to wish an old friend well.

"Oi, are you going to hurry it up or am I going to drop this on-?"

"Uncle Kili?" I turned to glance behind me, a large barrel blocking my view. It was definitely my uncle's voice.

"Gideon?" He tried to look beyond the measure of the barrel, and wasn't able. "Tauriel, is that Gideon?"

My aunt, being taller than all of us, was able to look over the crowd. "Yes, it is." She answered, an amused grin on her face. I saw her guiding my great-uncle Thorin, now a bit older than he would have liked to admit, along the path kindly.

"It's great to see you!" Uncle Kili cheered, even though he was not really able to see me beyond the barrel he was carrying. "Say, would you mind…?"

"Of course." I interrupted him, gripping the heavy burden on the other side and the two of us carrying the gift from Erebor the rest of the way. Hobbit's parted for us, giving us a clear path through all the mirth. The ale was plopped onto a table, and finally we could see one another. My uncle clapped me over the shoulder.

"Thanks." He grinned. He looked up at the part occurring around us. "Looks like you've got some eyes on you." He smirked, nodding his head behind me where a cluster of hobbit lasses stood together.

I blushed a small degree under the attention. It had been Kien that had felt most comfortable in female company, certainly not me. Much like my uncle's, my youth had been passed with teases as to my less-than-dwarven appearance, and nature. If I had a trace of stubble (which I doubted) it was barely visible. If my feet were big and bare right now, and had I not the braid of nobility in my hair, I would have easily passed for one of the hobbits, quite amusedly like Frodo, given the black hair and blue eyes, but with firmer jaw and slightly sharper nose, like Thorin.

"Well?" Uncle nudged me in the ribs with his elbow.

"Well what?" I asked.

"There's music, ale…" He tapped the barrel softly with his fist to emphasize. "…aren't you going to ask anyone for a dance?"

"Perhaps." I tried not to look at the girls behind me. If Fali or Vesper were here, they would have said they all sounded like twittering sparrows.

That's when my uncle would not take no for an answer, bent on seeing my having some fun he gave me a firm but loving shove and I almost fell over at the feet of the lasses. I managed to only stumble into them. "Sorry…so sorry…" I apologized quickly. A fair few of the giggled, light and feminine. My half-eleven cousin would have been thrilled, were he not already happily married. I was standing quite frigidly, a poor excuse for a dance partner.

I caught sight of Fali, who was surveying me from across the field, wildly gesticulating for me to say something. I could see her insistently mouthing ' _go on, go on'_.

I sighed, caught in a bit of conflict once more. I turned to the lass closest on my right. "Would you like to join the dance?" I asked. Her acceptance was immediate. As much as I hated being thrust into such circumstances, I did like making people happy. Most dwarf lasses were bold and did not very much like to dance with me, save when spirits were high.

I suppose I could always court and wed a hobbit though, I thought to myself as I spun the girl around rather gracefully. The only problem is, she wouldn't much like being under a mountain, now would she?

I quite enjoyed the party, dancing along with each of the girls I had almost fallen on. The sky grew dimmer and when it was dark enough Mister Gandalf was kind enough to show off his fireworks then. Amid the color, noise, and movement I spotted Fali and Frodo, dancing separately with Sam and Rosie, and then tossing the pair together. Sam looked shocked, Rosie looked delighted, and Fali and Frodo were laughing together.

When each girl had been danced with I finally stepped aside, resting on a bench. Usually Vesper was there to rescue me when I was without a dancing partner, or had too many. But she had never been to the Shire, nor would she ever come, her home being in the South.

I dared to close my eyes and seek a moment of well-deserved rest when there was an incredible _whoosh_ of something sailing skyward. I looked up to see a dazzling red spark against the sky, a rather impressive firework of Gandalf's. This was followed by a _bang_ that shook the air itself, and then the sparks materialized into the image of a dragon.

While I would have liked to see it soar across the sky, I was alarmed to see it gliding toward us, swooping downward. The hobbits were equally alarmed and began to run away. I myself shot up and pulled along with the force of the crowd. Frodo had collected his uncle and was trying to hurry him away. And Fali…

Fali stood in the middle of the swarm as though the dragon might have been a giant butterfly, not moving at all, facing the huge sparks head on, a very bright smile on her face.

I grabbed her by the wrist. "Fali!" I tried to pull her along, but she set her feet soundly on the earth where she stood.

"No, Gideon, just stand."

"It's a dragon." I prompted her.

"It's a firework!" Fali chided me, making me feel quite foolish for I knew it was only a display of lights and not a real creature.

"It's made of fire!" I snapped back, making my point. The spark-dragon was getting awfully close. "Duck!" I shouted.

"Don't, just stand!" And her hands wretched themselves into my shoulders, keeping me upright. The spark-dragon flew over us, mere inches above our heads. I found myself unable to breathe as I saw a terrific face charge at me, and felt what resembled standing in the light of a bonfire. I was spun around with my sister to see the hobbits flattening themselves safely to the ground just as the beast sailed back upward, fading down to a spark on the horizon, that exploded with utter brilliance.

The hobbits, previously frightened, were now getting to their feet, clapping. I turned to give harsh words to Fali, but she had already raced away. "Merry! Pippin!" She called out. "What were you thinking?!"

The two obviously guilty culprits were covered in soot, steaming a little, and being held by the ear by Gandalf. I smirked as I saw them being reduced to dishwashers as I had been. At least I had not been forced to do the task while the party was happening.

I heard old laughter and saw my great-Uncle Thorin and Bilbo who were speaking with one another, no doubt recounting old tales of a very real dragon. Then Thorin seemed to clear his throat, as if to call out something, and Bilbo tried to stop him, but Thorin still shouted out "Master Baggins would like to give us a speech!" No matter how Bilbo tried to hush him, he was now outnumbered by the Shire folk who were calling out for a speech as well.

He at last gave in and all of us stopped our dancing and chatting and drinking as he was ushered up onto a little platform and cleared his throat.

"My dear Baggins and Buffins, Tooks, Brandymucks,…" The list of families in the Shire went on and on, each punctuated by a cheer from their respective members. Fali was back at my side, clapping along with the families, and shooting each of them a smile, watching Bilbo as he pointed at them.

"It was made of fire." I repeated.

"Did you get burned by it?" She asked, out of the corner of her mouth.

"No, but it was damn close."

"If it wasn't real then there was nothing really to fear Gideon."

"I assure you, the fire felt quite real."

"If I thought it would have slammed into us I would of sank to the ground with the others." Fali said. "I wouldn't let you get hurt." I remained frowning. "I'm sorry." She said at last. "I know such things can frighten you, but it was exciting was it not?"

"Today is my one hundredth and eleventh birthday!" Bilbo announced at last.

"Happy birthday!" We shouted with the rest of his friends and family.

"Alas," Bilbo continued. "Elevendty-one years is a short time to live among such excellent and admirable hobbits ." He was interrupted by another, smaller, applause. "I don't know half of you as well as I should like, and I like half of much of you as well as you deserve." The Shire looked a little confused, and Fali and I exchanged a glance as if to 'what on earth does he mean by that?'.

"I…um…" Bilbo fidgeted suddenly, perhaps realising he had spoken somewhat out of term. "I have things to do…" He mumbled hurriedly. Fali and I could fell our smiles faltering at the edges. Perhaps someone should run up and rescue Bilbo from the suddenly awkward speech? "I've put this off for far too long." He said, a bit hoarsely. Frodo took a step forward, as though he would rush up to his uncle. "I regret to announce this is the end. I am going now."

Fali took a step forward as well. It was not in the character of Bilbo to speak so ominously, or act so strange. I could see Mother and Father slowly making their way up to him.

"I bid you all a very fond farewell." Bilbo announced, fondly. He glanced over Erebor's guests, and then laid his eyes upon Frodo. "Goodbye."

He was gone.

I blinked and he was gone, vanished into the air, without so much as a fading. There was a collective gasp, and then Mother ran up onto the platform where her friend had been and stared, as though she half expected he would reappear.

Fali pulled on my sleeve, and caught Frodo by his. "Look for him." She said, firmly.

"Fali, he's vanished." I said, stating the obvious.

"People do not just vanish, Gideon. He has to have gone somewhere."

"Do you think…he may be dead?" Frodo was quite shaken.

Fali released me to grab her friend by the shoulders and look at him seriously. "No, absolutely not. He was in perfect health, he wouldn't dare leave you without a single word or a letter at least, and I;ve never even heard of someone dying because they vanished in an instant."

I was walking, head looking back forth for our missing host when I tripped and fell, hearing an ' _ow_!' that was not my own.

I looked up and say no one. "Gideon!" Fali called for me. She pulled me up.

"I tripped over someone…" I said.

"No you didn't, there's no one around you to trip over." Fali said, as she brushed dirt from my tunic.

"Well, I had to trip over something."

"You tripped over your own two feet." She rolled her eyes. Mother and Father approached. "Did you find him?" Fali asked.

"No." Father shook his head. "Everyone, search the Shire. He has to be somewhere."

Mother looked pale. I took her hand in mine and squeezed her fingers. She snapped back out of her small state of shock. "Your great-Uncle has disappeared too." She said.

"Thorin?" I asked.

She nodded. "He must have ran off to find Bilbo. We just lost sight of him in the crowds."

The party dissolved as guests became searchers. I was sent out to search my way through fields, pushing tall grass out of the way, and stepping lightly around potato hills, calling out for Bilbo in the dark. I was about to give it all up, thinking he had spontaneously snapped out of existence when I beheld a strange sight.

My great-Uncle and Bilbo, walking off together in the night. They both wore packs and led ponies. I sank to my knees, to avoid being seen. I should have been letting out a relieved sigh, but I was smiling. Those two old scoundrels…they had probably planned this whole thing from the beginning. Whose idea it had been, and how they had managed to make Bilbo disappear was a mystery to me still, but there they were, old men, going off an adventure like they were boys again. I had an eerie feeling I was not supposed to be seeing their escape, and began to slip away, afraid of ruining the long planned moment.

If asked if I spotted anything, I would remark that I had not found a trace of either of them.

/

 **REDRydingHood- Thanks for being so excited, I hope you like it :)**

 **Eowilmathiel- Gideon is such a sweetheart. Haha, you've probably enjoyed this update given it's his perspective.**

 **Guest- So glad you're enjoying it!**


	4. Chapter 3 (A secret discovered)

Bilbo was not found by any of us, but he had been thoughtful enough to leave behind a letter, explaining himself. Evidently, his old age had made him rather restless, and he had decided to leave the Shire, with no mention of when, or if, he would return. Perhaps he had grown bored of the Shire, and there was some calling in his blood to go out into the world again.

Thankfully, he had not gone out into the world again, alone. Thorin had gone with him, determined to not leave his friend beside himself. It was very kind of him to do, though Mother and Father were both voicing concerns, given the age of the two men. Father and Uncle Kili would have saddled up two ponies and been off after them like bolts of lightning, had Thorin firmly instructed them not to in a letter of his own. He insisted he did not feel as old as he was, and been through trials much more straining than that of a small quest back to the lonely mountain with an old companion.

Mother had paced a long trench into the hall of Bag End, reading and rereading the letters. "Gone!" She muttered to herself, frustrated. "Both of them, without a care in the world! No so much as a word…just leaving letters for us to find when it's too late to stop them. If I didn't love them as much as I do I'd go straight out and drag them back by their ears like children. Serves them right, thinking their so young and up to things like this." She sighed. "Honestly, it's like they've completely forgotten about the Thunder Giants and Goblintown."

"They can seek safer passage now, through the valleys of Rivendell." Gideon tried to ease her a little. "Seeing as you were only taking the mountain paths to make it to Erebor before Durin's Day."

"And then Gandalf leaves without a goodbye to us." She huffed. "Hopefully he has the mind to go and fetch them."

"If anything Rue, I think he may be joining them." Father said.

"Frodo says Master Gandalf left on a matter of great importance." I said, everyone gathered in Bilbo's sitting room.

"Has he said anything else?" Mother asked.

I shook my head. "Not very much." I replied. "He's upset over Bilbo leaving, and being alone in Bag End."

"Perhaps we should extend our stay…" Mother muttered.

"We have already done everything we can for the hobbit." Father said. "It's not as if Bilbo has left him empty handed. Bag End is a perfect household, and the chest of gold we gave Bilbo years back was inherited by him. He has plenty to live on until he gets himself back on his feet."

"It's the getting himself back on his feet part that I worry about." Mother went on. "Bilbo never said anything, but I know he trusted us to help Frodo settle after he left."

"Did he ever tell anyone how he managed to disappear so suddenly?" I asked, curious. "Perhaps he had magic from Master Gandalf?"

"I doubt Master Gandalf would use magic that recklessly." Gideon replied to me.

"He uses some for his fireworks." I shrugged. "Surely disappearing is easily managed by a wizard."

"He wouldn't do it, Fali."

"Speaking of Frodo, where is the lad?" Father asked.

"The garden." Mother replied.

"I'll go and see him." I said. "He needs someone at a time like this."

I stood and walked out the back of Bag End, treading lightly over the flat stones that formed a small path to the heart of the garden. Frodo sat against the trunk of the oak tree, quietly. His gaze was fixed upward, past the leaves and at the sky. He did not heed my approach, too distracted with his thoughts. I came up to the tree and sat beside him.

"Everyone's inside." I said, though he knew it already. "Mother's scolding Thorin and Bilbo as though they were young dwarrows." I continued. "They won't come back anytime soon at this rate, not with her so angry at them."

"He made no mention of returning at all." Frodo said, his voice one of melancholy.

"He must come back at some time." I was cheerful.

"He left me Bag End and his fortune." Frodo said.

I frowned. The signs of Bilbo returning soon, or to the Shire at all, were slim. I shook Frodo's shoulder kindly. "He cares about you very much." I said. "There were many distant relatives that wanted to have part of his fortune, and he left it all to you. You were the only family he really cared for." I tried to get him to smile. "Really Frodo did you see your-what is she, your second cousin once removed?-Lobelia Baggins? She was right furious with you for being his favorite. I've never seen such a scowl, or laughed so hard over it."

Frodo's eyes lit up. "She did look rather funny."

"Cheer up, friend." I coaxed him. "Bilbo wouldn't just vanish from your life entirely. You can surely expect to see him again."

Frodo smiled the smallest bit. "I'm sure that you're right."

"Of course I am, you were like his own child." I smirked, standing up and pulling him with me. "Come. Let's go to the Green Dragon again. You need to get away from Bag End, just for a little while. It doesn't have to be the tavern if you don't want it to be. We could run out into the middle of the forest or the fields. Somewhere far away, where you can just clear your head of this."

"Perhaps a quick ale would be nice." Frodo admitted.

"There we go." I punched him lightly in the arm. "That's the spirit now. We'll sample the ale, we'll see how Rosie and the rest of the chaps are doing…maybe you'll finally let me try the pipe weed you boast of so much?"

"Not a chance." Frodo said quickly.

I was too happy to see him in better spirits that I did not protest a bit.

Soon I had him back in the friendly tavern, with a drink and good company. "I think you're actually quite lucky." I said. "You have such a dear house, and the fortune, and the garden…and no one even died. Bilbo just decided to go on another great adventure, and left everything in your care."

"I hope I can take good care of it."

"You will." I assured him. "You're a Baggins, and Bag End has been in your family so long, it's like second nature." I took a sip. "Did he really leave you everything?" I asked. "I haven't seen the letter myself. He didn't tell you to hold onto anything for him?"

"No." Frodo shook his head, his gaze a bit empty.

"What is it?" I asked. "Frodo? Is something bothering you?"

"He left me something…important." Frodo said.

"Important? Like what? I thought the most important thing to him was Bag End."

"It is, but…there was something else…" Frodo shook his head. "I can't tell you."

"Can't tell me?" I frowned. "We've been friends since Bilbo took you in. You've known me your whole life."

"I was told to keep it secret."

"By Bilbo?"

"By Gandalf?"

"Gandalf? How does it concern Master Gandalf?"

"Fali, please don't ask."

"But you've already brought the conversation up." I pressed.

"And now I'm ending it." Frodo shrugged.

"Fine." I tried to wipe my frown from my face. "Keep it all a secret."

We did not speak much more after that, but Frodo was at least eased of mind. I did not like that he was keeping things from me, and followed my family back to the inn where we had taken up rooms, hating to impose on Frodo who was not used to being host.

"He's hiding something." I told Gideon, staring out the window of his room, as this faced out over the village.

"He's not hiding anything." Gideon replied, skimming through a book he had borrowed from Bilbo…or rather Frodo at this point.

"He has a secret, and he won't tell me anything. How do I know if he's alright? He's obviously concerned."

"From what you told me, it sounded as though he was not able to tell you of it." Gideon went on, turning the page as though the conversation was far away. "Let him be. If he needs your help he will ask for it."

"I'm worried about him." I slumped in the window seat, my forehead resting against the glass of the window. Just then, I spotted Frodo about in the square, walking home in the twilight. "Gideon." I said, in a hushed tone, though Frodo was not able to hear me anyway. "It's Frodo. He's going home to Bag End."

"How surprising." Gideon said with sarcasm in his tone.

I stood and made for the door, snatching my cloak and wrapping it around me. "Fali, where are you going?"

"I'm going to run over to Bag End and speak with Frodo. He may have not been able to tell me something of secret importance in a public surrounding, but in the privacy of his home, he may be able to."

Gideon stood now, pointing a me a little accusingly. "You're meddling." He chided me. "Just like Mother used to."

"Mother meddled out of love, and so am I." I responded, striding out the door and making for the outdoor world.

Fali…Fali, wait a moment!" Gideon chased after me, grabbing his own cloak and forgetting to drop his book.

I was beginning to follow the hobbit at a safe enough distance, ducking behind a house to hide. I was close enough to hear him, and Sam, who was with him. Gideon followed at my heels, ducking as well behind the house. "We should go back." He said.

"Nonsense. Frodo has been off ever since Bilbo left, and now he has this secret on his mind. It isn't right for him to keep everything so bottled up."

"Forcing that bottle open won't be much help either."

"I'll not force anything from my friend." I gave him a glare. I may have seemed nosy, but I was only being so to help my friend. I wanted to free him of any ill feelings.

"Don't worry Sam, Rosie knows an idiot when she sees one." Frodo said to Sam.

"Does she?" Sam sounded hopeful.

They parted ways quite close to Bag End. Frodo went into his home, and Gideon and I were close behind. The door closed softly on it's own accord, Frodo having forgotten to close it himself. I walked up to green door, then paused, hearing voices on the other side. "Fali-" Gideon started again.

"Shh." I hushed him quickly. "I can hear voices."

"Voices? Who's?"

"Frodo of course and then…I don't know." I turned the door handle just a degree and pushed open the door, not enough to look within the house, but enough to hear more clearly if I pressed my ear to the crack.

"Fali, don't pry."

"It could be anyone in there, what if he's in trouble?" I defended. "Wait, I think…yes, it's Mister Gandalf, it has to be."

"Hello, Miss Fali, Mister Gideon." Sam said, from the other side of the hill Bag End rested in.

"Hello Sam." I smiled, trying to act as I normally did, though it certainly did not look like I was behaving so, crouching before the door with my ear pressed closely.

"Calling on Mister Frodo?" Sam had an eyebrow raised at me. Beside me, Gideon was beginning to squirm uncomfortably, feeling caught-out though he was not doing anything but standing on a door step.

"Yes…" I said, slow in my reply. We stared at one another for another minute. "Well, good night Sam." I added, hoping the polite hobbit might take the will to leave.

"Good night Mister Gamgee." Gideon supplied his bit.

Sam stood still. "You're going to knock, aren't you?"

"Why, yes…of course." I mumbled. "Good night Sam." I repeated, praying that he would feel as though he was intruding and leave. The same had worked many a time on Gideon. Sam however, was not the sort to leave when he had but an inkling of suspicion that something was wrong.

"What's going on?" He asked, and his tone deepened a little to that of parent catching his children at something.

"Nothing." Gideon shook his head. "Just wondering if we should visit this late." An uninspired answer really, but Gideon never fared well under pressure. It was a miracle he was playing along with the circumstances to begin with.

I choose now to be honest, seeing as it was Sam and not someone else. "There is someone in Frodo's house…it's Gandalf."

"Master Gandalf has returned?" Sam asked.

"Fali…" Gideon replied, looking more and more uncomfortable standing at the door.

"Aren't you the one who always prompts for honesty?" I glanced back at him. "Yes." I turned back to Sam. "Frodo been secretive today, and off-put since Bilbo left. And now the Grey wizard has mysteriously vanished and returned to hide in his house, awaiting him. I fear something may be wrong."

Sam's face faded into worry. "Goodness…" He breathed. He looked around, and seeing that no one was nearby, said "Seeing as you two can't see through the door, I best take the window."

"Samwise." I smirked at him.

Sam held out his hand and hushed us, kneeling under the open window and peeking quickly inside. "It is Master Gandalf." He confirmed.

"We really are invading on a private matter. It's best we things to work themselves out." Gideon tried to persuade us to leave, but was unsuccessful, as I opened the door a sliver more, now able to see a crack of the household. There was a small gold flash, within Frodo's hands.

"Sam? Can you see what is that Frodo is holding?"

"It's a ring, Miss Fali. Just a plain gold ring."

"Can you see anything?" I heard Gandalf say inside, with no small amount of apprehension in his voice.

"Nothing." Frodo answered. "There's nothing." Then, after a pause, "Wait…there are markings. It's some form of elvish, I can't read it."

"Markings?" I whispered to myself. The only markings I knew of were the old inscriptions of runes and the nymphian symbols I had grown up with.

"There are few who can." Gandalf replied, serious. "The language is that of Mordor."

"Mordor?" Gideon said in hushed tones beside me. "Fali, we should leave."

"We can't, this is becoming quite serious."

"Mordor is place of evil, from ancient times." Gideon said. "I have read of the villainy there."

"Bilbo left him whatever ring he has, and Bilbo is no villain." I answered logically. "Now be quiet so I can hear."

"In the common tongue, it says one Ring to rule them all, one Ring to find them, one Ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them." Gandalf spoke, darkly.

"It is magic?" I asked the air. "Dark magic?" Perhaps Bilbo had stumbled upon villainy… Beside me Gideon's face showed some comprehension, and a distinct fear. "What is it?" I asked. "Gideon, why do look so worried?"

He turned to me. "Three rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, nine for mortal Men doomed to die, One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne, in the land of Mordor where the shadows lie." He quoted a piece of lore he had once read. He looked up at me with concern on his face. "Fali, we _must_ leave. That ring is not meant to seen."

"So it is dark magic." I whispered back. "It's the Dark Lord's?" I had heard very little of him growing up, believing that he was long dead, but even with the little I knew, I understood cruelty and malice beyond thought which he had conducted. Sam was silent and pale under the windowsill. "Frodo…what's going to happen to him if he has something like that?" I worried. I pressed myself even closer to the opening of the door and strained to listen. My friend was in trouble now, and I was beginning to understand why he had not told me. Poor Frodo, I wanted nothing more than to burst through the door, grab the ring from his hands, and throw it in the river to be carried far away.

"This is the One Ring." Gandalf confirmed. "Forged by the Dark Lord Sauron, in the fires of Mount Doom." Now Gideon looked pale as well, and I was starting to feel an odd chill building in my chest as Gandalf explained how the Ring made it's journey from hand to devious hand, into the unsuspecting palm of Bilbo. It was what had made him age so slowly, had made him vanish at the party…the very air around the dark item seemed to teem with power untold.

"Evil is stirring in Mordor…" Gandalf said. "The ring has awoken." I swallowed a breath I had been holding. "It's heard it's master's call."

"But he was destroyed." Frodo interrupted, his tone hopeful and almost pleading to be right. "Sauron was destroyed."

Just then we all heard something, part wind, and part the whisper of a man. The words were faint, and foreign. I felt as though ice was shooting up my spine, and for a second as though some unnamed person was watching me there at the door, listening in. "No Frodo." Gandalf replied sadly. "The spirit of Sauron endured, his life force is bound to the Ring and the Ring survived." There was a heavy pause. "Sauron has returned."

My heart beat quickly in my chest, as Gandalf continued and I heard of coming darkness and evil consuming the land. I heard of orcs and fortresses…and the Ring, this one piece of the Dark Lord that sat looking so commonplace on Frodo's table, being the one thing missing from the awaiting doom.

"Alright." Frodo said, nervous but with courage. "We put it away. We keep it hidden, we never speak of it again." I admired my brave little hobbit friend. "No one knows it's here, do they?...do they Gandalf?" At this moment I felt very ashamed to be listening indeed, and Gideon was giving me a well-deserved glare for it. What added to my growing dread was that Gandalf was not answering him quickly.

"There is one other who knew that Bilbo had the Ring." He admitted. My stomach dropped as he tried to gently inform Frodo of a creature that had owned the Ring prior. My mind thankfully ignored the images of torture, but I was fixated on the two words of knowledge the dark forces now had: Shire, Baggins.

"Oh Frodo." I worried. I made to open the door right then and Gideon had to restrain me.

"Take it Gandalf!" Frodo insisted, suddenly desperate to rid himself of the Ring. "You must take it!" He continued when the wizard refused. "I'm giving it to you."

"Don't tempt me Frodo." Gandalf snapped back. The reason why he could not handle such a Ring became clear…he had too much power, but not enough to withstand the manipulation of the Ring. It became clear then what was to happen as Frodo began to collect provisions.

"You must leave." Gandalf said, helping him gather supplies. "And leave quickly."

"Where do I go?"

"Make for the village of Bree."

"He's leaving? Now?" I asked.

"We better make ourselves scarce then." Gideon said. "He will be using the front door after all."

"We can't…we can't just abandon him like this!" I snapped back. "He is my friend, and I can't let him wonder off into the wild, no sense of direction, or someone to aid him. He's a hobbit, and he's never been outside the Shire. It would be like giving a lamb to the wolves."

"Fali, we are not supposed to even know about this Ring." Gideon said. "And from the sound of it all, the less people know, the better off Frodo is. You'll be helping him by not becoming involved." He grabbed my wrist and tried to pull me away.

I pulled my wrist back out of his hold. "You may be frightened Gideon." I whispered. "But I'll not leave him alone."

"I think he's leaving now." Sam spoke up, maybe to break up the brief spat between us. The hapless hobbit them broke some of the daisies under the window and the sturdy stems made a distinct _snap_.

There was deadly silence as all of us crouched lower. "Do you think someone heard that?" Sam asked. The second the words left his mouth a great stick shot out the window and the blow was taken by Sam's head. He yelped in pain, and then a hand pulled the entire hobbit through the window.

"Samwise Gamgee!" Gandalf bellowed.

"I think we should leave now." Gideon said.

"But poor Sam…" I said as the unfortunate hobbit tried to pass his activities off as gardening.

"Gandalf doesn't sound as though he liked someone spying on the ordeal."

"Now they're both in trouble." I said. "Maybe we should go in?"

"No!"

"Gideon!"

"Fali!" He tried to pull me away and I fought back. The two of us collided against the door in our struggle to enter or leave, and seeing as it was already open a degree, it swung on it's hinges and the two of us fell inside, much like a company of dwarves had years ago. Our faces flattened against the floor, in an undignified display worthy of our crime.

"Fali! Gideon!" The three inside said. Frodo and Sam had spoken in a bit of surprise, but Gandalf sounded very unpleased with us.

"And what are you two doing here at this hour?!" Gandalf sounded quite intimidating.

I lifted myself from the floor, as Gideon lay still, seeming to prostrate himself in shame before the wizard. "Ummm…" I fumbled for an answer. "Gideon had a book he wished to return?"

/

 **Eowilmathiel- Gideon's lack of luck continues, the poor boy**

 **REDRydingHood- Such a great description. Gideon is the embodiment of awkward, cute, perfection**

 **It'sareview- He'll get there…eventually.**

 **TheEarthSong- So glad you like it thus far. I like to think that Fali, her mother Rue, and Eowyn would all get along well. Great minds think alike.**


	5. Chapter 4 (Riders in black)

I walked beside Frodo, who was quite quiet. His face was mostly blank, focused on making his way to Bree. His body was walking on, but his mind was numb and likely asleep, preferring not to think of the great duty he had taken on. I nudged him lightly with my elbow, hoping to break him from his trance. "Frodo?" I asked softly.

He shook his head a little and then looked up at me. "Yes, Fali?"

I swallowed. Gandalf had been (rightfully) angry with Gideon and I. The lecture was quiet in volume but stern and hard in meaning. I had felt reduced to the role of a naughty child. Gideon was pale and uncomfortable through the whole speech of Gandalf's. Our punishment was given: accompany Frodo and Sam on the journey to Bree. Despite myself, amid the shame of prying and regret, I did feel a small thrill for the adventure of it. Bree was only a few days away, and by no means a dangerous journey. I had traveled the distance with my family to come to Bilbo's party. But now the road was traveled with a purpose.

Gideon was less fond of the idea. His first voiced concern was what our parents would think when they realised our beds were empty the next morning and we were not about in the Shire. His second was if we were found by thieves or ruffians on the road. I had very good form in telling Gandalf that the prying had all been my doing, and Gideon had wanted to return to the inn from the start, but it did not help the case. He knew of the Ring, and so he must come with us. We were allowed mere moments to return to the inn, pack the essentials, and depart. Gideon wrote a note, but because he could not tell of anything, it shortly said: _Do not worry. Will return to you. Fali and Gideon._

I really had made a mess of things…

"Fali?" Frodo nudged me this time for I had taken a turn to lose myself in thought.

I looked back to him. "Are you angry with me for eavesdropping?" I asked. "I'm so sorry I did. But I had no idea you were dealing with something so serious."

Frodo did not reply right away, which made me feel all the worse. "You don't hate me now, do you?" I asked. I glanced behind me, at Gideon. He was keeping an eye on Sam, who looked more and more worried to be venturing farther from home. I had been surprised to hear that he had not made it any farther than an old scarecrow in the wheat fields. "Gideon would hate me right now, if I were not his sister. He can't hate me, but he does not like me very much right now, and I feel terrible for doing this to you."

"No." Frodo shook his head. "I suppose I'm rather glad to have you along, and Sam, and even your brother." He sighed. "I'm not sure if I'm meant to do this. Hobbits are made for the Shire, and not much else." He looked up at me. "You love adventures, so you're better suited for such things."

"Maybe." I shrugged as we entered a corn field, pushing the long stalks out of our path. "But from the sound of it, I still think this journey rests on you."

"How?" Frodo asked. "I've never done anything like this."

"Well…think of it like this." I said, encouragingly. "Master Gandalf cannot take it because he is too powerful. The less powerful one is the better. I've known you since you were a baby…"

"Fali…" Frodo found this embarrassing for some reason.

"What?" I asked. "I have. On with what I was saying before you interrupted me…" I continued. "It' important whoever carries the Ring has no power to be manipulated for the purposes of evil and doom, and as long as I've known you Frodo, you've been an ordinary hobbit, no magic or greed to speak of. Greed, there's another thing..." I interrupted myself. "That's why dwarfs cannot have the Ring. Much as I love my kin, we are notorious for harbouring treasure. Just think of my bloodline, my great-great grandfather passed on Dragon sickness for generations. So I can't hold such a thing."

"What about Men?"

"Men are a bit unpredictable." I said. "Some have honour and others don't, and you never know what you'll get."

"And elves?"

"They're preoccupied, as we saw earlier." I alluded to the caravan of elves we had witnessed, going toward the sea to sail away. I turned to him seriously. "Now you're just trying to find a way out, but trust me, this was meant for the work of a hobbit. You don't desire power, you have no power to manipulate, and I don't think you can hate anyone." I smiled at him. "I wouldn't trust the Ring in the hands of anyone but a hobbit, if you ask me." Frodo grinned back, looking much calmer.

"Mister Frodo!" Sam called out suddenly, sounding quite frantic. Frodo and I spun around to find ourselves surrounded by corn.

"I think we wandered a little too far." I said.

"Fali!" Gideon called out for me as well. "Where are you?"

"Over here, Gideon." I called back.

"Frodo? Frodo?" Sam continued to call out. The hobbit and I retreated in our path a few steps, returning around a bend in the corn field. I spotted Gideon from behind, looking around in the green blur of the corn stalks for me.

I tapped him lightly on the shoulder. "I'm right here." Gideon spun around, looking almost spooked that something had poked at him through the crops.

Sam came around, and spotted us all, looking much relieved. "I thought I'd lost you." He sighed.

"What are you talking about?" Frodo asked. Granted, it was difficult to see much with so much corn in the way, but it would be hard to truly get lost from each other.

"It's just something Gandalf said." Sam replied, adjusting the pack he wore.

"What did he say?"

"Don't you lose him Samwise Gamgee, and I don't mean to."

"Sam we're still in the Shire." Frodo replied. "What could possibly happen?"

I was about to voice my agreement, and attempt to make the hobbit laugh, teasing him with some witty remark on how dangerous corn could be, when something did happen. It was all blur, but I distinctly felt Frodo latch hold of my sleeve, in effort to keep himself upright, and accidently pull me down with him, the two of flattened to the ground. My head struck a rather rough patch of roots, and my head buzzed with an ache and blurriness. I saw the flash of red, and thought for a second that we had been turned over by one…or was it two?...very large foxes. I blinked, and the fuzziness in my head cleared. No, not foxes I realized.

"Frodo!" Pippin spoe, rather excited to have encountered a friend. "Merry, it's Frodo Baggins!"

"Merry? Pippin?" I asked, nursing the back of my head a little.

"Hello Frodo!" Merry greeted, the four of us still struggling around in the earth. "And hello Fali!" He noticed me.

"What are you two doing in a corn field?" I asked as Gideon gave me a hand and pulled me up.

"Merry and Pippin…" He sighed, not as excited to see them as they were to see us. "It all figures." He muttered under his breath.

"Get off him!" Sam said roughly as he took hold of Pippin's shirt and pulled him off of Frodo.

"So sorry for knocking you down, princess." Pippin said, while picking up dropped stalks of corn from the ground.

"Hold this." Merry passed a bag filled with other vegetables to Sam.

"Did you take those?" Gideon asked.

"Merry! Pippin!" I chastised them both.

"We'll share." Pippin promised, his form of an apology at the moment.

"You've been into Farmer Maggot's crop!" Sam scolded them.

Then the most dreadful sound of baying hounds was heard, and who was fairly close. Corn stalks rustled, and the feathery tips of them swayed as the animals ran, following the scent of the mischievous Pippin and Merry…who were now standing right beside us. An angry voice accompanied them, no doubt a very displeased Farmer Maggot.

Pippin grabbed hold of Frodo and ran. Merry grabbed hold of his bag of vegetables and ran. I looked up time to see a wicked looking scythe, and hear the curses of the farmer. I grabbed hold of Gideon's hand and pulled him. He was too surprised, like Sam, to break away from the spot, and too conflicted with his morals.

Hoping to return the stolen vegetables was a nice thought, but hardly a good idea right now.

Gideon, when pulled from his spot, took off on his own, quite frightened to be caught by hounds like the rest of us were. Soon, it was him who was pulling me along instead of the other way around. Quickly I turned my head around and shouted out "Sam!", for the hobbit had not yet moved, and was looking from the produce in his arms to the approaching farmer, and back to the produce. Sam immediately dropped the vegetables on the ground and ran.

I let Gideon guide me through the mess of green stalks, feeling the leaves of them snap back and slap me in the face a few times.

"I don't know why he's so upset." I could hear Merry ahead as we began to catch up. "It's only a couple of carrots!"

"And some cabbages." Pippin added, lightly. "And those few bags of potatoes that we lifted last week, and the mushrooms the week before."

"Mahal…what haven't you two dug up in his garden?" Gideon asked them.

"His parsley…it's wilted." Pippin answered honestly.

"Yes, Pippin." Merry cut in. "My point is, he's clearly overeactin'." The hounds gave a nasty bark at us. "Run!"

The corn suddenly disappeared and I found myself slamming into Gideon's back, who had bumped into the hobbits ahead of us. "Careful!" Gideon said sharply. I managed to peer over his shoulder and notice that the ground had stopped, giving way to a sort of gorge, on the edge of a forest.

"Look out!" I hissed, grabbing Gideon's tunic by the fistful and pulling him backward. Such effort to save him was all in vain. Sam burst wildly out of the corn, looking as though a monster was after him and not a dog and his master. He was too busy looking behind him, making sure he was not pursued, to notice the drop in our path ahead of us, nor the fact that we had ceased running. I felt him collide into me with a great force, momentum of which caused everyone to be pushed forward too far. Merry at the front of our party swayed on the edge of the gorge for a second, his eyes widening as his arm flailed around for something to grasp.

There was nothing but air, and so one after the other we were all cast over the edge. There was the sickly sensation of falling, such as when I missed the last step on an Erebor staircase. Unlike those slips however, I did not have the ground inches away to quickly catch myself on. The ground came, uneven and heavily sloped, and collision with it was half pounding into its surface and half sliding down its surface.

We all ended up tumbling into a great tangle of arms and legs and bodies at the bottom, in a heap. I had a number of leaves caught up in my hair, and the hobbits were spitting various bits of dirt and forest from their mouths.

"Oh, that was close." Pippin wheezed, trying to pull himself out from under his friends.

"Ow…I think I've broken something." Merry groaned, and pulled out a broken carrot from beneath him. All his vegetables had been lost in the tumble it seemed. I smirked at him, and let a small snort of laughter escape.

"You're lucky it wasn't your neck." Gideon said, carefully crawling out from underneath us.

"Trust a Brandybuck and a Took!" Sam snapped at the two of them.

"What?" Merry shrugged, brushing dust from his jacket. "That was just a detour, a shortcut."

"Oh please…" I sighed. "That was a very narrow escape if you ask me."

"A shortcut? To what?" Sam asked, still annoyed now that he had dirt and leaves all over him, and we were currently disoriented, having no idea if we were on the right path or not.

"Mushrooms." Pippin replied, pleasantly surprised to see more food after he and Merry had just lost their stolen vegetables.

Merry, Pippin and Sam all scrambled over to the mushrooms they had found, and began to harvest and divide the bounty among themselves.

"At least we'll have something nice for supper tonight…more company too." I said optimistically.

"We're off the trail now." Gideon was examining a map.

"I think we should get off the road." Frodo said, not interested in the mushrooms like the others.

"Are we far off?" I asked my brother.

"Not badly." Gideon said. "If we cut through the forest, there's a river we can follow along to Bree."

"That would be a lot better than walking the entire way there."

The wind howled, tunneling through the bent trees and seeming to screech almost. The red headed hobbits looked up, cautious.

"Get off the road! Quick!" Frodo yelled. Gideon grabbed my hand and pulled me away this time, sensing real danger.

An ominous mist rolled into the forest, floating high and blocking out the low sun. The light faded, the tree turned to dark silhouettes, the whole forest becoming a place of shadow and dark mystery. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise, instinct telling me we were being followed, and not by a hound or a farmer. I took up behind my friends, herding them all, my hand flinching to the hilt of my blade, which had yet to be pulled from my belt. "Hurry! Go, go!" I whispered intensely to them.

Frodo disappeared behind a tree, followed by Gideon and the rest. I followed, and was pulled down and pushed into a small pit in the ground, beneath overhanging roots. I fought to control my rapid breathing, to handle the amount of adrenaline in my veins. I could hear something approaching…heavy footfalls? A low whickering alerted me that it was really a horse. I looked up through the one hole through the roots I had above me, half covered by moss. There was a dark figure, clad in shadows it seemed. No part of his skin was visible, his hands bore metal, his hood was pulled high, his face concealed in darkness. I felt something stir within me, an eeriness that unsettled me. Gideon was stiff beside me, his eyes closed in what looked like focus, trying not to move.

I felt something run across me, and at first I thought it only a chill, but my eyes flicked over to a very large spider dancing across my shoulder, coming too close for comfort to my neck. I noticed other pests then, ants, worms, insects with a hundred legs. A very nasty pit we had found ourselves. I felt the spider step across my neck and had to contain a flinch that my body wanted to have.

The dirt in the roots above me trickled down, the dark, evil figure that had pursued us kneeling above. It breathed heavily, inhumanly. My heart pounded in my ears, sounding a thousand times more loud than it was. I touched the hilt of my blade again, trying to gather some courage. It might be needed.

Everyone looked uncomfortable among the grime, and with the figure overtop of us, hoping he didn't glance down. Frodo looked most uneasy, his eyes pressed closed tight, and his body shaking. I was behind him and could feel him shivering. I saw Sam grab hold of his hands, and it wasn't until then that I figured he had been holding out the Ring.

I thought our discovery was upon us, but Merry had the thought to throw away his bag of mushrooms and few rescued vegetables. A rather great sacrifice for a hobbit.

It rolled among the foliage, and the Rider looked up with a sharp hiss and whisked off with a great, also inhuman, speed. We waited until the sound of hooves disappeared, before we burst from our cover and sprinted away. Once a distance had been put between us and the Rider, we stopped, and heaved for breath.

"What was that?" Merry gasped out. Frodo stared at the Ring in his hand, but said nothing.

"Nothing good." Gideon gave short reply. "Come." He nodded to an overgrown trail. "This is our road. Keep alert." He looked back at Merry and Pippin. "It isn't safe to be alone out here anymore. You'll have to follow us to Bree."

"So far from home?" Pippin asked.

"It'll be alright Pippin." I encouraged him. "We're to meet Master Gandalf at the inn of the Prancing Pony."

The mention of the Grey wizard seemed to calm everyone's mind, and we were able to resume traveling as twilight surrounded us. When the sun descended and the moon rose our fears lit up again, every snap of a twig and scuffle of a nocturnal animal causing our heads to whip around.

I scanned ahead of us, trying to see through the mists. Every gap looked like a Rider. I paused, studying a rather large one. No, that was no gap in the mist…

I pulled the hobbits and my brother behind trees, and watched as a Rider patrolled the road ahead of us. "What now?" I whispered.

"Perhaps we should turn back and walk around him." Gideon suggested.

"Too long." I said. "And he may follow us."

"That Rider in black was looking for something…or someone." Merry at last wisened to our pursuer's purpose. "Frodo?"

"Get down!" Sam hissed and we all crouched further to the ground.

"I think he's leaving." I said, as the Rider turned toward the mist and made to go that way. "We must move now." I said firmly, hand on my sword.

"We must leave the Shire." Frodo said. "We must get to Bree."

"Quickly." Gideon added.

"Right." Merry nodded, thinking quickly. "Buckleberry Ferry. Follow me."

We rose from our hiding place and began to run quickly and quietly away. I took up the rear again, herding them forward like a ewe does her lambs, memories of looking after them in younger years flooding back. I glanced behind me…

The Rider stared back through the mist.

My throat tightened, and then I yelled "Run!" They took off, and I raced after them, urging them forward, and this time pulling out my sword, the metal flashing in the moonlight. There was a screech, pitched and close by, and the pounding of hooves. A second Rider approached from the bank above us. "Hurry!" I shouted.

"This way!" Merry yelled.

"This way, follow me!" Pippin urged us. "Hurry!"

Gideon grabbed my elbow once more, his own sword drawn, and hurried me ahead, the two of us passing Frodo.

"Frodo, hurry!" I shouted, trying to reach for the hand of my friend.

The port was right ahead of us, and the Riders right behind. Merry shouted for Sam to untie the rope, but I quickly cut through it with my sword, Gideon and I rushing onto the ferry. The hobbits pushed off from the dockings.

"Wait!" Gideon tried to slow them, and I saw why. We had outrun Frodo, who was now racing for his life.

"Frodo!" I shrieked.

The gap between the dock and the ferry increased as Frodo ran, a Rider at his heels. We all shouted for him, trying to escape, and trying to stall enough to save him.

"Hurry!" I yelled.

Frodo, very out of breath, raced along the dock and leapt onto the ferry, collapsing into his friends. My own arms caught the hobbit, tucking around him safely and pulling him to the floor of the ferry. I looked up see the Rider stop, his horse rearing up, the two of them shrieking still.

He retreated, and my heart was able to beat once more. He passed us like a shadow, followed by the second Rider, and then even a third.

"Mahal…there are more of them." I breathed. "Frodo? Frodo, are you alright?"

The poor hobbit looked scared, and pale. He nodded slightly, glancing up. "I'll…be fine." He finished.

I hugged him close, my hand atop his head, pulling it comfortingly onto my shoulder. "You're very brave." I whispered. "Thank goodness."

"How far to the nearest crossing?" Sam asked.

Merry replied that it was Brandywine bridge which was twenty miles away. We had a respite to catch our breathes and put some distance between the Riders and us. I removed myself from Frodo and went to Gideon's side. He looked rather shaky.

"Gideon?" I asked softly.

He looked over to me, his face full of concern. "Fali, what are we doing here?" He asked.

I knelt beside him and put my arm around his shoulders, not knowing the answer to give.

 **REDRydingHood- Haha, she was thinking on her feet**

 **It'sareview- Yes! Finally we can get to the actual quest**


	6. Chapter 5 (Strider)

**Yes! Just enough time to update! Please enjoy, thank you to those who kindly reviewed in the last update, I don't own lotr (which is sad).**

What was I doing here?, I thought to myself, brushing rain drops away from my nose. The journey by ferry had been awfully quiet, and since then we had come upon Brandywine bridge and had to walk for most of a day and long into the evening. We were all exhausted, seeing as we had been too on edge to get a decent amount of sleep after our encounter with the Riders. The long walk that followed early in the morning had given me plenty of time to question my reasons for being here, and come to the conclusion that I, Gideon, son of Fili, and of Rue, third-born prince of Erebor, hated adventures. What about this was so exciting for Fali anyhow? I had never felt more uncomfortable in my life.

The sleeping on a bedroll, out in the open, the process of keeping afire going, and the eating of dried food I could manage just fine. Those things were not made me so uncomfortable. What had despaired me was the new found, and very real, danger we were suddenly in, the constant nagging fear that a Rider may appear out from behind some tree at any given moment, the lack of sleep, and the chilling, sodding (pardon my language) rain that drenched me, it's iciness seeping deeper and deeper into my skin until I felt that it was part of the marrow in my bones.

The poor hobbits, their feet must have been so bitterly cold.

I should not have been with them. If only I had not followed Fali…if only I had thought to desert her at Bag End. I had not been the one who was prying, I had wanted to return to the inn where my family was. My family…

I shook my head, small drops of rain flinging from the one braid I had along my ear. No, it wouldn't help any to think of Father or Mother and how they were faring after we had been gone for days now. I had left the letter, and all I could hope was that the words would be true.

Fali behind me was a vision of optimism, that seemed too sickly sweet at a time like this. "Just think…" She said with a bit of cheer in her voice. "We're only a few minutes away now." She paused to wrench her foot out of the mud, which threatened to hold her boot captive it was so thick. "The inn will seem like a right pleasant place after this, won't it?" She smiled at the hobbits. "Won't it, Sam?" She prompted them.

"Yes, Miss Fali." Sam replied through his chattering teeth.

They were in as low of spirits as I was it seemed.

"The first thing I'm going to do when I get to the inn…" Fali kept on in the pouring rain, "…is get myself an ale. That'll warm the insides right up. That, and find a nice, big fire…pour the puddles out of these boots, dry off…" She was speaking almost wistfully. "Then finally see Mister Gandalf and what he's found."

"Then finally have something to eat." Merry added.

"Do you think they'll be serving a nice roast, or something?" Pippin asked his friend.

I rolled my eyes the slightest bit. I could hardly think of food, despite that it had been a while since I had last ate too. "What about you, Gideon?" Fali asked me. "What do you wish for at the inn?"

"A roof." I replied, honestly. "And four sturdy walls." I added, remembering the Riders.

"The roof would certainly be nice." Fali agreed with me.

"Look." Frodo spook up. "There it is, ahead." I glanced up from my path, and was now able to see a gate, which enclosed an entire town. We ran the rest of the way, now fueled with a new sense of hope. Warmth! Food! Master Gandalf!

There was a brief paused at the gate, for the way was barred this late in the evening, though someone must have been on guard. We were unsure of how to declare ourselves. Frodo had had to leave behind the name of Baggins, and we could not speak much of our matters. We were an odd traveling group, and questions were something we were hoping not to deal with.

After this hesitation Frodo knocked upon the gate, loudly. A plate slid back, revealing a hole in the door, through which a guard must have looked, but this was above even the heads of Fali and I. The plate slammed back, and a second plate was drawn to the side, this time at our eye level. An old and also very wet face peered through. "What do you want?" A gruff voice asked.

"We're heading for the Prancing Pony." Frodo answered.

The plate was retracted and the gate-door opened before us. A wrinkled old man stood in the doorway. "Hobbits!" He observed. "Four hobbits and…what on this earth are you?" The question was directed at Fali and I. Now, however, was not the time to discuss nymphs and dwarfs and the more recent lineage in the Line of Durin.

"Dwarves…mostly." Fali replied, though we were just as much nymph as we were dwarf. Not many others knew of the latter race though, so the answer sufficed.

"What business brings you to Bree?" The gatekeeper asked us.

"We wish to stay at the inn." Frodo went on. "Our business is our own."

"All right young sir, I meant no offence. 'Tis my job to ask questions after nightfall. There's talk of strange folk abroad. Can't be too careful."

"It's no trouble." I excused us as we were ushered inside the town walls. When the way was closed behind us I felt infinitely safer already. The muddy trail was transformed into a cobblestoned road. This we followed, heading off toward the town square, where the inn would be.

I had been to the townships of Men before, in the city of Dale. Bree was far more…hurried. There were still a number of people out this late, most of which did not look like the nicest of characters. Everyone bumped and jostled and shoved among each other to get along their way, which was quite the disruption for those of shorter stature like ourselves. Fali had her hands on the shoulder of Frodo and Sam, guiding them along to avoid wagon wheels rolling over their feet. I had to pull Merry and Pippin backward a few paces by the collars of their shirts to avoid a strange man eating a carrot.

Frodo spotted the sign for the inn, and at last we walked out of the rain and into a dry building. The inside was crowded, and noisy, and the only light came from the great fireplace and the litters of candles bout the place. Oddly, to someone who had grown up in a dwarven kingdom it felt remarkably homey. I was reminded of the pleasant evenings spent in the stone halls, when the sunlight waned and torches were light, and the parties that were thrown in the Great Hall.

"It feels like home in a way, doesn't it?" Fali said beside me, drawing back her wet hood. She smiled to herself as two men laughed over a private joke and took swigs of their drink. "All that is missing is the stone." She sighed. Frodo stepped up to the counter of the inn, which far exceeded his height. "And everything being our size." She added. She waved her hand for the attention of the keeper of the inn and tavern.

"Excuse me?" Frodo spoke, a bit louder in volume to catch the man's attention as well.

The innkeeper had developed a habit of leaning over the counter when he spoke to customers and noticed us sooner than the gatekeeper had. "Good evening, little masters!" He greeted us warmly. "And ma'am." He dipped his head in Fali's direction, noticing her presence. " If you're looking for accommodation we've got some nice, cozy, hobbit-sized rooms available. Mister uh —" He looked down at Frodo, who stood in front of us all.

"Underhill, my name's Underhill." Frodo introduced himself falsely.

"Underhill, yes…" The man was searching the recesses of his memory for such a name.

"Biggest family in the Shire." I said, without much thinking, trying to make his surname more believable.

"Oh yes, of course." The busy innkeeper responded, and I breathed a small sigh of relief.

"We're friends of Gandalf the Grey. Can you tell him we've arrived?" Frodo asked. I started to scan the busy building, trying to find the wizard.

"Gandalf? Gandalf…?" The man paused in thought again, and I hoped he could recall a real person who had came to the inn. "Oh yes! I remember…elderly chap, big grey beard, pointy hat." We all smiled and nodded. "Not seen him for six months."

At this news we were shocked. Six months? But he had said he would meet us here. He was the one with a pony, surely he would have made it before we did. But a second, more thorough look around the tavern proved that the wizard was not waiting here for us. I suddenly felt quite alone in the tavern, and forgotten. The hobbits huddled closer to Fali and I.

"What do we do now?" They asked. An excellent question too. What _were_ we to do now? We had no plan. Master Gandalf was the one who was supposed to arrive with the plan for us. Our duty had been to get the Ring out of the Shire, and travel to Bree, to this inn. We had finished that and now we had no idea of what we should do next. Frankly, I had been hoping he would be here to relieve Fali and myself of our duty to the hobbits. The adventure was meant to end here in my mind. Now, it had to go on.

"Perhaps he is late." Fali said. "We'll wait a while and see if he arrives. We must have faith that we will come."

From the stories my mother had told me of her own adventures, it sounded as though the Wizard had an awful habit of running late, and not returning for a long time. I could only hope he would come through the door of the inn soon.

Fali ushered us all to an empty table, clearing away discarded tankards herself. "Sit." She said. "I'll see to getting us something to eat." She moved with purpose, sliding in and out between the taller customers. The hobbits and I were wringing out our cloaks, creating little puddles on the floor. Fali returned a few minutes later with a large bowl of stew, and half a dozen smaller tin bowls and spoons under her arm. "It's not a grand feast, but it smells good." She placed it down in the middle of the table. She rummaged through her pocket, fishing out silver coins, and passing them out. "You should all go and get yourselves something to drink. Gideon, I'll have the same as whatever you have."

The hobbits nodded and went to go and fetch some tankards. I looked over a Fali, who was serving herself a bowl of the stew. "We should be careful with the money." I said. "We only have enough for one night at the inn."

"Gandalf said he would come." Fali replied, taking a bite. "All the same…I used my own coins to buy supper."

"What if he doesn't come?" I asked.

"Don't say that." Fali quipped.

"It may happen." I said, checking about the inn again for the pointy hat and grey robes.

"You mustn't say so where the hobbits can hear." Fali reproached me. "I've been keeping optimistic for them over the last few days." She sighed. "They were so scared by the Riders, and now Gandalf is not here yet…I just didn't want them to be afraid. I wanted them to keep going on." Her eyes were cast down. "If Gandalf doesn't come, we'll have to have some money to buy the hobbits weapons…they'll need them."

Her bright smiles and cheery tone suddenly made more sense. I nodded, getting up to buy us both a drink to accompany the meal. "We'll just have to be careful." I walked away, feeling the weight of a journey ahead on my shoulders.

/

"Sam, he'll be here. He'll come." Frodo promised his friend. It was hours later still, and now the tavern was darker, filled with suspicious characters, many of whom were now staring at us with interest, for we had sat at our table long. The stew had been finished and we still waited for the wizard. Merry and Pippin were in brighter spirits now, fishing out the coins from their own pockets to enjoy the ale of the inn. Frodo and Sam remained worrisome. I was stoic, keeping my thoughts to myself and slowly sipping on the last of my drink. Fali was near slumping against me, terribly tired. She had taken the last watch the night prior and had been awake longer than the rest of us. I put my arm around her and pulled her to rest her head against my shoulder, like a pillow.

"Thank you." She mumbled, looking up at me with bleary, sleepy eyes.

Merry returned to the table then, having made a trip to the tavern counter, carrying a large stein of what looked like more ale, or perhaps mead. "Careful with how much you drink Merry." Fali said, with her eyes closed.

"What's that?" Pippin asked, most curious.

"This, my friend, is a pint." Merry answered, a grin on his face.

"It comes in pints?" Pippin replied, followed by "I'm getting one." The he rushed to the counter.

"You've had a whole half already!" Sam tried to stop him in vain.

"One of us should go and get him back." I said. "Fali, could you? He listens to you when you bring on a snappish motherly tone. Fali? Fali?" I noticed she had fallen asleep, head on my shoulder. "Fali." I jostled said shoulder and she was startled awake, raising her head, and inhaling a large breath.

"Is he here?" She asked. "Has Gandalf come?"

"No, not yet." I looked around. "It's late. If he's coming, he's not coming this night. We best see to getting a room."

"That fellow's done nothin' but stare at you since we arrived." Sam nudged Frodo in the ribs and nodded to a shadowed corner of the tavern, where a man in dark cloak sat, leisurely smoking a pipe.

"Has he?" Fali asked, forcing herself to wake to a ready state again.

"We probably capture attention with our height." I tried to think of a simple explanation and hope it was true. "Hobbits do not travel much either."

"Or it could be because I'm the only lady here as a customer." Fali brought up. I didn't care for that answer much. Strange men staring at Fali was added to the list of my worries.

The innkeeper was walking past and Frodo pulled him aside. "Excuse me, that man in the corner, who is he?" He asked.

The man glanced at the stranger in question and hushed his voice. "He's one of them rangers. Dangerous folk they are — wandering the wilds. What his right name is I've never heard, but around here, he's known as Strider."

"Strider." Frodo muttered quietly.

"Strider?" I asked.

"Curious name." Fali responded. We had never heard of anyone going by such a name before. Rangers I did know something of from the books in the Erebor libraries. They were men of the wild, the Dunedain, people of the Northern kingdom. Beyond that, I knew very little of them. I dared to stare at the man again, and for a mere second, as he lit up his pipe again, I swore our gaze met mine dead on, and I flinched, staring into the emptiness of my tankard.

Frodo closed his eyes and for a moment I thought he would fall asleep sitting there like that. I was about to suggest once more, and more firmly, that we acquire a room, and the first proper beds we would sleep on in days, when I heard the most alarming word from the mouth of Pippin. "Baggins!"

How dare he say it so cheerfully, when he should not be speaking it at all!

Everyone was suddenly snapping out of their tired reverie's, even Frodo, who looked the most worried. Had we not warned Merry and Pippin to be careful of what they said to others? The drink must have loosened his tongue.

"Sure I know a Baggins. He's over there, Frodo Baggins. He's my second cousin, once removed on his mother's side and my third cousin twice removed on his father's side, if you follow me." Mahal, would his story stop?

Frodo and Fali both shot up from their seats, both very awake and aware right now, and rushing over to Pippin, not too inconspicuously. Pippin kept blabbering on.

"Pippin!" Frodo pulled on his sleeve.

"Frodo!" Pippin replied.

"Pippin come and sit back down!" Fali hissed.

"What?"

"Now, Pippin!"

In the confusion Frodo slipped on someone's boot and fell back into the floor. That's when the oddest, and eve

n more alarming thing happened. There was a small flash of gold from the Ring, which soared up out of Frodo's hands. It fell back down, Frodo stretched out his hand to catch it, and the Ring fell upon his finger. One second Frodo was there on the floor, and then he wasn't.

The crowd around us gasped. Fali's eyes went round and the remaining hobbits were dumbfounded.

"Where did he go?" Pippin asked.

"Frodo?" Fali began searching. "Look for him." She whispered lowly to us.

But after rummaging through every corner and crowd and ducking under every table and chair we could not find our friend. "He has to be here." I said. "The Ring only makes him invisible." I groaned. "He should not have put it on, this is turning quite bad."

"He didn't put it on, it fell upon his finger." Fali corrected me. "Come to think of it, have you ever seen anything like that happen before? If I tried to do that with an ordinary ring it wouldn't work."

"Gandalf said that the Ring was…alive almost."

"That Strider is gone." Sam came up to us. "Have you found Frodo yet?"

"No, but we're about to." Fali rose from checking under the last table. "Come on, we have to search the rooms, check any room that has light under the doorway or whispered voices inside."

There were two large halls, one which was taken up by the hobbits and the other by Fali and I.

"The Ring is alive, you were saying?" Fali whispered, opening a door, but finding naught but a single lit candle. She had taken her sword from her belt, and I had followed her lead.

"Yes, almost." I nodded, speaking quietly. "According to what the wizard said, part of the Dar Lord's soul is in it. It's alive…but not fully alive. Not yet."

There was suddenly a great uproar in the other hall, finishing with a ""Let him go! Or I'll have you Longshanks!"

"Was that Sam?" I asked, but Fali pushed her way past me and ran to their aid.

I had no choice but to follow her. Surprisingly, there did not appear to be any fight happening when we arrived. That did not stop Fali from pushing past the others to Frodo, turning her sword over expertly in her hand, and pointed it to the heart of the stranger in the dark cloak. "Unhand him!" She ordered.

Strider was more surprised than concerned. His hood was drawn back now, and he did not look as frightening as before. Most of his coloring was darker, from days in the sun, and deeply colored hair, but his eyes were a fairly bright blue.

"This here is a very brave one." He spoke in Frodo's direction.

"It's alright Fali." Frodo calmed her.

Fali softened her stance in response, swordpoint still at Strider's chest. "Milady, if you would lower your blade."

She dropped it from his chest and stepped back, going to Frodo's side and inquiring to if he was alright. "Come." Strider said, gathering his supplies. "You will not be staying at the inn tonight. This is where there saw Frodo."

"Who saw him?" I asked.

"The Riders."

/

I had not liked following Strider out of the inn, and across the road to an apartment above a shop. Before he opened the door, I quite honestly believed he was going to shove us all in and kill us. But the apartment was not empty or dark like I thought it would be. Ten minutes later, the hobbits and I were sleeping in a bed (Frodo was too shook up to sleep just then), and Fali cuddled up on a boot bench in a pile of cloaks.

I was nervous to sleep at first, seeing as Strider had taken up watch. His gaze was fixed out the window still when he said suddenly "Sleep, Master Gideon."

"You know my name?" I asked. "How?"

"I have met with your friend, the Grey Wizard."

"Gandalf?"

"The same."

It was a good enough response for my exhausted head right then. I fell asleep for a few heavenly hours, dreaming of nothing for my head was too heavy.

And then awoke to nightmarish shrieks from the Riders. Everyone woke up in their respective beds, apart from Frodo who had not slept yet.

"What are they?" Frodo asked, keeping away from the window.

"They were once Men, great kings of Men. Then Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine Rings of Power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question. One by one falling into darkness." I shuddered, feeling a terrible chill in my spine.

"Now they are slaves to his will. They are the Nazgul, Ringwraiths, neither living nor dead. At all times they feel the presence of the Ring. Drawn to the power of the One. They will never stop hunting you."

/

 **'Strider' is referring to a moment in the Tolkien appendices, when Gandalf requests that he try to hunt for the creature Gollum to see if they can find more information about the Ring.**


	7. Chapter 6 (The luck runs out)

**I don't own lotr, and please enjoy.**

We proceeded to make our way out of Bree, with Strider and a newly acquired pony. Fali was in renewed spirits after a night of sleep on the boot bench, some hot breakfast inside her from the inn, and direction from our newest addition. Strider was quite serious, given the circumstances, but he was not without heart. I was still relieved beyond measure when Frodo awoke me to take a turn at watch, and I realised I had not been stabbed to death in my sleep by him.

The hobbits were also wary of him, trying to trust him and still deciding if that was a good idea. They reminded me of young ponies, who had been born in the night and found the dwarves coming into the stables the next morning and jumped about, sniffing at the outstretched hand before them, trying not to be stroked. Or an old cat who cared not for strangers, but tried to warm up to them.

Fali, of course, was very much like a hound at a hunter's heels about him. She followed right behind him, leaving me in to usher around the hobbits, and asking him a multitude of questions. Luckily, he was patient enough to answer them. I could hear their conversation from.

"Have you traveled far?"

"Yes."

"How far?"

"Nearly across all of Middle Earth."

"Alone?"

"Sometimes. Ranger's may travel to together, if a distance is too great to travel alone."

"Do you find you ever get lonely?"

"Occasionally."

"Is there anyone you miss in particular?"

"Yes."

There was a pause. "Have you ever come across three giant stone trolls before?"

"What?"

I smirked. Ah the story of the trolls…a popular tale told to us in our youth.

"Where are you taking us?" Frodo asked Strider. I realised then that I had simply followed Strider, along with everyone else, out of Bree with no clue as to where he was taking us. Perhaps I had been too willing to take guidance and leadership after Gandalf had not come to the inn, and with the Wraiths were closing in on us. It was my instinct to follow.

"Into the wild." Strider replied.

"The wild it is then." Fali smiled, putting on more visible optimism, more for the sake of the hobbits than herself. They were beginning to frown a little at the thought of rather unpleasant travels through the wild, what with exposure to the elements, and hours of walking, and rations. "At least we have a plan now."

"How do we know this Strider is a friend of Gandalf?" Merry whispered behind me.

True, many in Middle Earth knew of the wizard…it could easily be a lie from him, though he seemed the honest sort of man thus far…of course that could be him acting a lie as well…then again, I was perhaps overthinking things, and simply too wary of strangers for my own good…

"I think a servant of the Enemy would look fairer and feel fouler." Frodo answered, putting me more at ease. If the others trusted him well enough, so would I.

"He's foul enough." Merry whispered back.

"We have no choice but to trust him." Frodo concluded, and I found myself agreeing. After all, did any of us know what to do now without Gandalf to lead us? A leader I didn't quite know was better than no leader at all, at a time like this.

"But where is he leading us?" Sam asked.

"To Rivendell, Master Gamgee, to the House of Elrond." Evidently, Strider had remarkable hearing, for he was able to pick up the hushed conversation between the hobbits.

"Did you hear that? Rivendell! We're going to see the elves!" Sam whispered.

Rivendell…I mused internally. Yes, Rivendell! Mother had told me of that place, having been there herself. Waterfalls and lush gardens, and learned elves. Rivendell would be perfect to go to. Surely there would be people there who knew of what was going on more than we did. Good, willing people who could take over this quest. I could see the end of the journey already. Only a few more days, with my guard up for the Wraiths and sleeping by a fire, and all would well.

Yes, to Rivendell we would go.

/

Traveling with Strider and the hobbits was becoming…tedious?...bothersome?...bleak? No, all those sounded too harsh, but even I was better adjusted to the wild than they were, which was quite noteworthy. The past three days could be summed up thusly:

Upon the first day with Strider we were all in good spirits (more or less) and followed him like newborn pups follow their mother. We were also quiet towards him, apart from Fali, who kept up her questions of his travels and adventures periodically through the day. We were so quiet in fact, that we did not voice our concerns of becoming too tried to walk much farther. Merry was bumping into me so constantly, that eventually he just leaned against my side as though I were an upright bedcushion and seemed to slowly continue on in that fashion. As for the others, and myself, I was nearly sure we had all sleepwalked the last hour of our path, and the twilight landscapes had been but dreams.

The second day was one of hunger. The hobbits had been too worried after the incident with the Wraiths to have their normal appetite but it quickly returned the following day. The hobbits had all stopped when Strider to a moment to survey the land before us, determining the easiest route with unexperienced travelers. As they pulled out food and cookware, he turned around, surprised. "Gentlemen, we do not stop 'till nightfall." He said, firmly, but politely.

"What about breakfast?" Pippin spoke up, sounding more surprised than Strider looked.

"You've already had it." Strider responded, still confused.

Fali gave me a look that read: He must not know many hobbits, obviously.

"We've had one, yes…" Pipping started.

I sighed at the incident, and said "He means the second one."

"What about second breakfast?" Pippin finished. Strider blinked at him, second breakfasts a very foreign concept to his mind. He then turned and walked away, proceeding to lead us once more.

I followed him as the hobbits repacked their food and pans. Fali took up her position beside Strider. "You mustn't think poorly of them for their appetites." She explained. "Hobbits are used to many meals in a day."

"They live in comfort, and they're having trouble adjusting to the strict schedules and rations of food." I added, hoping to defend their behaviour a little.

"They're only doing what they're used to." Fali finished. "Especially Merry and Pippin."

Strider looked down at her, and I marveled how Fali was able to meet his gaze dead on, my I still found myself turning my glance to the ground. "Truth be told…I thought second breakfast was a myth." He said. Fali smirked and had to stifle a laugh.

"It isn't just second breakfast though…they've got elevenses, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, supper…and any number of biscuits and butter in between those. Oh, and desert, they are quite good at baking."

"One would think they hardly have time to do anything but eat." I joked to myself.

Strider rummaged through his own belongings, and pulled out a pair of apples. "These were intended for the pony…" He muttered, and then tossed them back to Merry and Pippin.

The third day, today, had been nothing but mosquitos draining us of our blood, and a nearly flat, empty plain stretching out before us. Bleak was beginning to become an appropriate word for the situation. Just over a week ago I had been in the bright and colorful Shire, and now I was food for the insects.

I tried not to be such a pessimist. I kept any complaints I had to myself, and continued to walk on. But the openness of the plain was starting to put my nerves further on edge. Here we could see for miles, which was an advantage, but so could others, and then there would be nowhere to hide from danger. Now would be a dreadful time for the Wraiths to find us.

By evening, the landscape turned rockier, to some relief. Being half-dwarf, rocks were almost comforting at this point. There was one distinctly large rock in the distance, and for a moment, my mind turned almost whimsical. "You don't suppose that's a tiny mountain, now do you?" I joked to Fali, who snickered at me.

"If it is, we should hope to board ourselves up inside it, sort of like a dwarvish hobbit-hole." She replied, with an amused smile.

I snickered back, feeling a bit more light hearted now. As I had said, rocks were almost comforting right now.

The distance we covered revealed that the littlest mountain in Middle-Earth was not a mountain at all, not even a gigantic boulder. It was a fortress, admittedly one in ruins now, but still standing powerfully in the terrain.

"This was the great watchtower of Amon Sul. We shall rest here tonight." Strider decided.

"Great." I smiled. "We almost have a roof over our heads. Well done, Strider." I said.

Strider turned his gaze over his shoulder and on to me, and my gaze flinched to the ground again. Internally, I sighed. I would have to stop adverting his gaze soon. It would not reduce me to a pile of ash. I frowned at myself, and my words. My tone had been honestly pleased, but perhaps he had taken it as sarcasm, and thought I was mocking him.

"That is to say…" I stuttered, feeling the horrid sense of tension build within me. "…what I mean is…well done…I mean, it's not like there's a house abou-"

"You're welcome Master Gideon." Strider interrupted me, thankfully.

"Well done." Fali rolled her eyes, as we ascended to the fortress. "You handled that so well, it was downright chilling."

"Oh shut up." I replied to her.

"You can look him in the eye you know." Fali went on. "He is man…not a Valar."

"I know." I replied, my tone rather empty and my body very tired. I slumped off my pack as Strider pulled our four short swords, giving them to the hobbits. I was already half asleep when Fali handed me some supper, and before I knew it I surrendered to that peaceful void, in which there was no conflict, no Wraiths, no Ring, and no passage of time.

"My tomato's burst."

"Can I have some bacon?"

"Okay. Want some tomatoes Sam?"

"What are you doing?!"

"Tomatoes, sausages, nice crispy bacon."

I blinked, drowsily into the dimness, my eyes closing and nearly falling back to sleep. Did I smell bacon? No, bacon would mean a fire and it was the middle of the night. A fire would be so noticeable. Only fools would lit a fire now.

"We saved some for you, Mister Frodo."

"Put it out, you fools! Put it out!" A frenzied scuffling and stamping sound followed these words.

"Oh, that's nice! Ash on my tomatoes!"

The voices and sounds were pulling me back awake. I blinked now, and saw shadows on the ground, fading and dying. Shadows? Shadows needed light… I struggled to pull myself out of my comfortable sleep.

There was a sharp, pitched cry that cut through the night. Every hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. My body snapped to alertness. Icy adrenaline spilled into my blood, soared through my body and mind and then pooled with a sickly feeling in my stomach.

"Wraiths." I gasped. I turned my head around and saw the dying embers on the ground. "Who lit a fire?!" I snapped. As if I couldn't guess it already. "Trust a Brandymuck and a Took!" I looked all around me, searching for Fali, but she was gone. "Where is Fali?" I asked. The hobbits looked too scared now to answer my question. "Where is she?" I repeated.

"She went off with Strider." Sam managed to spit out.

The sick feeling in my stomach strengthened. Fali and Strider…gone? But that would mean the only one here now who had ever wielded a blade before was…me.

 _Oh no._

I was no great swordsman. In my youth I had been won but one spar, and that was completely by accident. I was lucky I had never been scraped up, my only injuries the bruises I sustained from falling down into the sand of the training grounds.

I jumped to my feet, grabbing at my belt for my sword, and nearly dropping it. The hobbits were all gathering at the edge of the fortress, upon the overhang. Through the fog of the night, one could see the Wraiths approaching. "Back away from there!" I ordered them, and they did, snapping back and drawing out their own small swords.

"Go!" Frodo urged us all and we hurried to the highest point of the fortress, putting meager more distance between the danger and ourselves.

They came, surrounding us, more shadow than man. I stood among my friends, in my mind trying to get myself to move forward. I knew the most of sparring, I should stand at the front. But I was not brave enough to move. They pulled out their own swords, far longer than ours, and pointed them at us, sharp metal inches in front of us.

"Back you devils!" Sam prepared to defend Frodo. I was too caught in the torment of adrenaline and staring into the face of death to say anything. My tongue was stone.

That is when everything started to collapse around us and the tension snapped, giving way to pure terror. Sam briefly clashed blades with the Wraiths ahead of us, and in seconds was flung to the other end of the watchtower. Merry and Pippin stepped up for a mere second, and were cast aside, flung to the floor.

They turned to me and my heart squeezed painfully in my chest. I did nothing, too shocked, too scared. I felt rough stone slam into me as I too was flung aside, skidding across the floor and my back slamming into the remains of a pillar. My eyes closed as I winced at the pain sharply.

Frodo. I forced my eyes to open. He was cornered against a column, distraught and helpless. He shook from head to toe. And then he pulled out the Ring…

"Frodo don't!" I called out, coughing out part of the words, as I scrambled back to my feet, picking up my dropped sword. A Wraith turned and flew at me, and I survived the attack by flinching, drawing my sword up to protect my body and meeting his blade, crossing it with my own. The Wraith hissed and pushed against the crossed weapons, forcing me to bend awkwardly backward, farther, and farther, as I was pushed to one knee.

My hand was shaking as I panicked there. I heard a great cry of pain that was Frodo's. In that moment, I felt sure he had been killed, and that my own death was before me.

There was suddenly a yell, distinctly Striders. Fali's cry of 'Gideon!' echoed it. I was too occupied with staring into the dark abyss that was the face of a Wraith to look at what was happening, but I could still hear the clash of sword meeting sword, not weak and undecided as Sam's bold attempt had been, but strong and sure.

There was an angry yell from Fali, and I saw a silver flash out of the corner of my eye, the moonlight glinting off the symbols etched into our swords. She stabbed into the creature's ankle without remorse. The Wraith screeched, the sound so incredibly pitched and loud I thought my ears would bleed. It retracted it's blade and without him pushing against me I fell down, my balance lost. Fali stood ready, and moved quickly, her skills taking over, her body shutting out the fears in her mind in a way that mine was unable too. The Wraith turned to her and tried to strike, but her blade always there to meet his.

From the ground I could Strider moving like a true warrior, sword slashing against the Wraiths, inflicting wounds, brandishing a torch, which they swayed away from.

I then noticed Frodo, alive, but bleeding from his shoulder and in pain. Sam was already at his side.

The Wraiths did not look like they could be killed, but they still appeared to feel pain, and once they saw that Strider was not surrendering and their wounds become numerous from his attacks they fled.

"Get down Fali!" He shouted. Fali crashed herself into the floor. Strider threw his torch with so much accuracy that it struck the Wraith in it's shadowy face. It's entire being quickly lit up in flames, in a way an ordinary man's would not. Screeching again, it ran, falling from the edge of the watchtower.

They were gone…for now.

"Strider! Help him, Strider!" Sam yelled, as Frodo breathed heavily and gasped in pain. Fali ran to his side.

"Frodo!" Her hands crossed over the wound in his shoulder. "What happened?" She asked.

Strider picked up a dagger beside Frodo, and grimly replied "He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade." The blade then crumbled and dissolved in his hand, leaving only the hilt, which he cast aside."This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs elvish medicine." Strider picked Frodo up and began to carry him off on his shoulder. The cry of the Wraiths could be heard in the distance. "Hurry!" Strider added.

"We're six days from Rivendell. He'll never make it!"

"We must hurry Sam." Fali said, wringing her hands, and placing her sword back in her belt. "Merry! Pippin! Grab our supplies! Be quick!" She then turned to me, looking me up and down, and sighing in relief when she saw I was thankfully unharmed. "Thank goodness." She breathed. "You're lucky to be alive Gideon."

I felt as though luck was the only reason I was still alive.

Whatever luck we did have before was surely running out, and quickly. Frodo's condition worsened, and traveling seemed to only make things worse. A few days later we had found ourselves back in a forest, the trees offering some cover from the Nazgul. Frodo still breathed in a series of gasps and shudders. His eyes were going bloodshot, making the bright blue of his irises look wretchedly out of place. His skin had gone pale and grey, and the wound in his shoulder festered at an alarming rate.

Fali was at the side of her friend near always. We had to stop for a brief rest, and Sam and her were trying to get him to drink water. The last thing we needed was for Frodo to become dehydrated as well. It was hard enough keeping him fed.

"Look, Mister Frodo. It's Mister Bilbo's trolls." Sam said, trying to be light hearted still.

Fali and I looked up for the first time since we had stopped and beheld that the great rocks had arms and legs and faces. Bilbo's stone trolls…Mother and Father's stone trolls.

"I always wanted to see them." Fali said, softly. "We're probably sitting right where they tried to roast half of Thorin's company on a spit."

"And decide if they wanted to squish them into jelly." Sam smiled a little. "Right Mister Frodo? Mister Frodo?" Sam asked, feeling at his forehead. "He's going cold!" He turned to Strider, hoping for some aid.

"Is he going to die?" Pippin asked nervously.

"He's not going to die!" Fali snapped at him.

"Fali…" I said, my tone implying that it was a possibility, and an increasingly likely one.

"He is not!" Fali shouted back.

"He's passing into the shadow world. He will soon become a Wraith like them." Strider said. The Wraiths cried out in the distance, and Frodo gasped, as if to answer them.

"They're getting closer." I said. "We cannot stay here, we must keep moving."

"We won't be fast enough with Frodo like this." Fali said.

"Sam, do you know Athelas plant?" Strider turned to Sam.

"Athelas?" Sam did not understand.

"Kingsfoil?" Strider clarified.

"Kingsfoil — aye, it's a weed." Sam nodded.

"It may help to slow the poison. Hurry!" Sam rushed off at his word. "Fali, see if you can scout the Wraiths out."

"She's not going out there." I responded.

"She will not have to Master Gideon." Strider nodded to the stone trolls before running off in search of the herb himself.

Fali stood. "I always said I would climb over these things one day." She then proceeded to climb up the stone trolls, clinging to the overgrowth on them. I stood at the base of them, and kept my eye on her, lest she fall when I wasn't looking, and sprain her wrist as she had when she was a child.

Fali knelt upon the hunched over back and shoulders of a troll and scanned the area around us. "Do you see anything?"

"No, the Wraiths do not carry torches with them." She shook her head. "The easiest path to us looks like it's from the south-west though. I doubt it matters much to them, but it's the smartest one to take." She paused. "I think I can see Strider, he brought a torch with him."

"Has he found any Kingsfoil?" Sam asked, returning unsuccessful. "I dare not go looking any farther with the Wraiths out there, and no light."

"He must have, he has stopped." Fali replied.

"Don't worry, Mister Frodo." Sam said.

"He's returning now." Fali said, and then as we heard him approaching, "Who does he have with him?"

I turned to see Strider and a woman return from the thickets. The lady had pointed ears, and was quite beautiful. An elf.

"Who is she?" Merry asked, as Fali quickly descended the stone troll.

Frodo." The elf knelt beside him.

"She's an elf." Sam observed, in awe of such a being.

Strider had found the herb and was quickly applying it to Frodo's wound. Fali was soon beside me, or else she would have rushed to Frodo's side and interrupted the two. "She's the one he misses the most." She said, to herself, but I was close enough to hear.

"He's fading. He's not going to last. We must get him to my father." The elf said as they rose, holding up Frodo. "I've been looking for you for two days."

"Where are you taking him?" Merry asked.

Strider and his friend were too busy attending to Frodo to take note of Merry's question. "There are five wraiths behind you. Where the other four are, I do not know." The elf said, warningly.

Strider propped Frodo up in the saddle of the elf's horse. He then said a phrase in elvish, that left us all wondering what he saying. The elf, of course, replied in the same tongue.

"What are they saying?" Pippin asked.

"I don't care." Fali shook her head. "They're saving Frodo, let them speak elvish if they want to."

The only part of the conversation we did understand was when the elf said "I do not fear them." Fali gazed at her approvingly.

The two of the grasped hands overtop the saddle quite tenderly, quickly said goodbye (though I don't fully know, the words were still elvish), then the elf mounted the horse, with Frodo in front of her, and prepared to leave.

"Please be careful." Fali said.

"I will." The elf nodded down to her.

"Arwen, ride hard. Don't look back." Strider said to his companion.

Arwen nodded and then urged her horse to run, and was gone.

"What are you doing?!" Sam demanded. "Those Wraiths are still out there."

"I know." Strider nodded, gazing off in the direction where Frodo and Arwen had disappeared. "Come." He returned to being serious. "We must hurry to Rivendell."

 **REDRydingHood- I know, finally, right?**

 **Eowilmathiel- I was hoping someone would pick up on the carrot man! Thank you!**

 **OH IMAGINATIVE AND CREATIVE ONE- Once more, thank you.**

 **The BugSlayer - You found me! Yes! I was starting to become worried. Glad you're enjoying it.**


	8. Chapter 7 (One adventure ends)

**Ha! Just enough time to update again. I'm a bit busy to respond to reviews right now. (I'll see to adding them later when I'm not on the run) but thanks to everyone who did, I'm glad you're enjoying the story. My update schedule has been different days of the week thus far (sorry), but I should be able to update every 4-5 days. Fingers crossed.**

The journey to Rivendell was about four days long in length. We made it in three, and with great thanks to my bossing the remaining hobbits to hurry along constantly, and worrying over the state of Frodo. We had ceased hearing the cries of the Wraiths soon after Strider's elven friend had left. It had been both a blessing and a curse. We were no longer under their threat, but I knew they were hurrying after Frodo, and Arwen.

I was quite curious of Arwen. I had only seen her in passing, given the urgency of the circumstances, but I found her remarkable. The way she walked with such grace and confidence, how she bravely insisted to leave with Frodo on her own, looking so unafraid. I had noticed that she was a beauty as well, and for a lady to be all these things certainly captured my attention. During a brief rest I finally asked Strider about her.

"The elven lady, Arwen…who is she?"

"Arwen Undomiel, the daughter of Lord Elrond." Strider responded. "The lady of Rivendell."

"Lord Elrond." I said thoughtfully.

Gideon took my comment as a question. "Lord Elrond is head of Imladris, or Rivendell as we call it. He's very old, being immortal. Strangely he is only half-elven. Legend says he choose immortality long ago, when Valar were still about Middle-earth, though his brother did not. He married Celebrian, daughter of-"

"A simple 'he's from Mother and Father's stories' would suffice Gideon." I hushed him, and his bout of knowledge. I remembered hearing the name of Elrond before in my youth. I turned again to Strider. "How do you know her then? Have you been to Rivendell before."

"I spent many years there…fostered as a child." He smirked. "I was the honorable ward of Lord Elrond and his family."

"Ward? But what of your-? " I began.

Before I could say 'family' Strider interrupted me. "They were gone." He continued a little more cheerfully, "The Lady Arwen was a dear friend of mine when I was a boy."

"It sounds almost like Frodo and I." I smiled. "I'm sorry I asked you of such a private thing." I apologized.

"It is not your fault my lady."

"You don't have to call me 'lady'." I replied. "I get enough of that title back home."

"That you would, my lady, being royalty."

"Who told you?" I asked. "About me being royalty?"

"Master Gandalf." He nodded. "Though I have also heard the tale of your Mother, the Lady of the Lonely Mountain."

I turned over onto my bedroll, seeking to gather some sleep now "If she were here right now…" I yawned, interrupting myself. "…she would want you to call her Rue."

Strider smiled, lighting up his pipe in the evening air. "Rest, Fali, we should arrive in Rivendell tomorrow."

True to Strider's word, we walked into Rivendell the very next day. I was taken aback at how lovely it was, my eyes darting from the crystal clear waterfalls, to the lush canopies of the trees, to the high mountains in the distance, to the elaborate buildings, with lines and arches that flowed as perfectly as water over the falls.

Gideon was gazing in wonder as well. "Their stories do not do it justice." He said to me. "I've never seen a place like this in all my life."

"It's incredible." I said, as we passed over a bridge and into a courtyard. The hobbits were weary after our rushed travels, and looked as though they mind wander aimlessly into the gardens, find a patch of warm sunshine like kittens and collapse there to sleep.

At the top of the staircase, joining to the entrance courtyard, Arwen stood. I breathed a sigh of relief, seeing that she was alright. If she arrived safely in Rivendell, that meant Frodo had as well. "Welcome to Rivendell." Arwen said.

"Where is Mister Frodo?" Sam asked before I could.

"Frodo is in the care of my father. His wounds were grave, but with rest, he should recover." Arwen gently answered.

"I'm going to him." Sam nodded, brushing away fatigue and hunger. "Which way?"

"Mister Gamgee, perhaps you had better rest yourself first." Strider said, calmly.

"I can rest myself at his bedside, can't I?"

"I did say for you not to leave him. It's good to see you took the words so seriously." Gandalf appeared at the top of the stairs as well.

"Gandalf." I smiled.

"Fali, Gideon, Sam." He smiled at the three of us, and gave a thankful nod to Strider. "Merry and Pippin." He added, a little confused.

"Hello, Mister Gandalf." Pippin said, he and Merry quiet.

Gandalf shook his head a degree, choosing to simply accept that Merry and Pippin had stowed along, rather than fight it. Nothing could be done about it now. "Come, my friends." He said. "Let us find you a meal." Gandalf then let us to a small dining room that had been arranged for us.

"Gandalf there is only three chairs." I said, noticing the setting of the table.

"You and brother will come this way." To which we merely followed.

"Where are you taking us?" I asked, but then the wizard stopped, and opened a door.

"Fali." My name was said as though it was a large sigh of relief. "Gideon." My brother's name echoed in much the same fashion. I stared into their faces. Mother. Father.

"Fali." Father repeated, and then his arms were around me, bringing me close to his chest and not letting go quickly, just like a parent always does.

"Father." I said softly into his shoulder, clutching at him myself. He felt so sturdy, like a rock to lean against.

"Gideon." Mother grabbed Gideon and embraced him strongly. "I was so worried over the two of you. Your note was so vague, and then you didn't come back…then we got word from Gandalf to come here." She pulled back. "Are you alright? You didn't get hurt, did you?"

"No, Mother." Gideon replied. "We are fine. Everyone is alright." He kissed her forehead comfortingly.

"Thanks to Strider." I spoke up, as our parents let go and exchanged children. "He's a ranger."

"A ranger?" Mother asked, checking me over quickly and holding me close.

"Yes." I nodded. "You should meet him Mother. He's so intriguing. He lives in the wild and travels all across Middle-Earth, and he kept us all safe. He showed me how he tracks when he's hunting, it's so amazing. I hope I'm as good one day." My stomach growled, loud and obnoxiously. "I'm sorry, we were in a rush to get here. Frodo was in awful condition the last time I saw him. Oh! I should go and see him."

"He's asleep still." Mother stopped me before I could run away. I could tell she was not going to let Gideon or I out of her sight for a while. "Enough about Frodo and Strider. Let's take care of you and Gideon now. The both of you are going to have a decent meal, and a good night's sleep." She picked a blade of grass from my hair. "And a bath too." She added.

There was no arguing with her, and both Mother and Father watched us eat every bite of the meal the elves brought us that evening. Gideon looked most relieved to finally be in the elven city, feeling safe once more. My mind wandered to Frodo's well-being.

I was surprised that evening when Uncle Bilbo appeared…and looking much older too. Great-uncle Thorin was with him, and appeared concerned over the rapid aging of his friend. Mother ushered him into our guest apartments and sat him in a chair by the fire, putting a blanket around his shoulders. "Have no fear, old friend." She said kindly. "We'll look after you." I had just finished my bath (and a very lovely one it was, much like in Mother's recollections), and while Gideon was content to sit by our family in front of the fire, I was not willing to accept the accounts of Frodo I had been told. When everyone was busy making sure Bilbo was comfortable and seating themselves down, I slipped out.

It took me a while before I found my way to the healing chambers. I found Frodo there, lying in a bed that was too big for the hobbit, fast asleep. Sam was seated beside him, and appeared to have fallen asleep himself. I walked quietly over.

"Frodo?" I asked, in a whisper. He slumbered on. "Frodo?" I repeated, a degree louder, hoping that somehow my voice would pull him out of sleep and I could ask him if he was alright.

And then scold him something awful for putting on that horrid Ring.

"Let him sleep, Miss Fali." I jumped at Sam's voice in the quiet room. "There'll be no waking him up yet, he's much too worn out for that."

I nodded, understanding. "You'll keep an eye on him, won't you Sam?"

"Of course I will, Miss Fali." He nodded, and smiled a little. "Now you go and get some sleep."

I bid both of them goodnight, though only one could hear me, and slipped back in to our guest rooms, only staying awake for a little while to make sure Thorin and Bilbo were both well, and then falling into a great, deep sleep.

When I woke, I committed myself to the healing chambers again. It was rather humorous in fact. Mother tended carefully to the elder Baggins and I to the younger.

Gideon said something was going about in Rivendell since we had arrived with the Ring. I had to agree with him, feeling a sense of oncoming events. But I was too busy to think greatly on the matter, spending my hours with Sam, by Frodo's side (he was due to wake soon), and minding Merry and Pippin, and then assuring my parents I was still alright after my travels. I had no idea where Strider had wandered off to, though in my rushes through the halls I caught glimpses of him, sometimes with Arwen. Gideon was too busy in the vast library of Rivendell to pay much attention to the goings-on of the place and tell me what was happening.

I didn't care. Frodo's health was my main concern. That and Sam's welfare, for he had worn himself thin in his vigil at Frodo's bedside.

"Eat Sam." I all but ordered.

"What?" The hobbit looked up from his hands at me, confused.

I sighed heavily. "Gideon, please tell Sam he must eat something."

"Excuse me?" Gideon looked up from his book. His eyes were darting between the text in his hand and a translational volume to make out the elvish. "Sorry." He added.

I groaned at them. "Eat!" I shoved a thick piece of bread and jam at Sam.

Sam picked it up and took a slow, distracted bite. "Sorry, Miss Fali."

I smiled at him, forgiving, and with another sigh said "Go on then, return to Frodo. It's the only thing on your mind right now."

Sam got up, eating his bread slice, and went off. I turned to Gideon. "Something feels awfully tense around here." I observed. "You can feel it building."

"It's the Ring." Gideon rationalized. "The elves do not want to keep it here. Further plans for it must be made."

"When?" I asked.

"Soon." Gideon replied. "Lord Elrond has called a council, from what I've been able to hear."

"Mother and Father will be there?"

"Yes, and Thorin…and Uncle Gloin has been called forth."

"Uncle Gloin?" I asked, my excitement building a little. "Why, we haven't seen him in ages! Not since he moved his family out to the Blue Mountains."

"Frodo! Frodo! Bless you, you're awake!"

"Frodo!" I gasped, springing up from my chair and spilling my tea in the process. As Gideon pushed his chair away, saving his books from the tiny flood, I was racing at break-neck speed to the healing chambers where I had heard Sam's happy cry.

I burst in, repeating "Frodo!" and choking him in a crushing hug. The hobbit was awake, smiling and laughing fondly. "Oh thank goodness, you're awake again." I sighed.

"We were that worried about you, weren't we Mister Gandalf?" Sam commented happily.

"By the skills of Lord Elrond, you're beginning to mend." Gandalf, who had been watching Frodo for us in our absence, said.

A tall, wise looking elf approached us, bearing some resemblance to Arwen. "Welcome to Rivendell, Frodo Baggins." He greeted.

"Thank you for all your work." I said, gratefully.

"Yes, thank you." Frodo said himself.

"Come." Sam urged him. "Let's get you somethin' to eat."

"And then we'll go find Merry and Pippin."

"Perhaps it is best Frodo take things slowly…" Gandalf reminded us.

"I don't really care what pace we go about." I said, cheerfully. Lord Elrond looked at me amusedly. I had to control myself as we guided Frodo to the room where we had been eating earlier, and then throughout all of Rivendell, showing him balconies and waterfalls, gardens, and finally his friends. The reunion was happy one between him and Merry and Pippin, full of laughter and spirit, but his reunion was Bilbo was most touching, like that of a parent and child. It reminded me of how my own parents had reacted to my arrival in Rivendell, safe and sound.

With that duty happily complete, the Ring safe and no longer our responsibility, and a smile now on everyone's face, I felt much lighter. I was at last able to return to Mother and Father and collapse into a chair. I smiled, motioning for them to come nearer. "Sit, please." I invited them. "Tonight I will be the one telling tales of adventures."

/

The next day Frodo was in even better shape, though I did not see him much after breakfast. He had chosen to visit with his uncle understandably. I had walked with him to Bilbo, and spent a few minutes with them. Thorin said Bilbo would be staying in Rivendell until better travel arrangements could be made to bring him back to the Shire, or, if Thorin persisted in the argument, to Erebor. Bilbo was unwilling to give up Bag End though, and while I did want my dear 'uncle' and friend to come and live under the mountain with us, they were happy in their own home. In the end, it would have to be whatever was best for Bilbo's health.

Gideon had gone off to the library again. I was left to explore Rivendell. Luckily, I did not have to do so alone. Pippin and Merry soon found me, and before I knew it, they each had grabbed me by the elbow, and were showing me halls, gardens, fountains big enough to bathe in, and countless rooms of fine white stone, each with arches and statues. Toward the end of the discoveries, it was becoming more of a race around the hallways and balconies than a leisurely walk.

"Look!" Pippin said, braking to a halt, and looking over the edge of a balcony. "The courtyard is full of people."

"What do you suppose they're all here for?" Merry asked, stopping as well.

I looked over the balcony, and saw various parties coming into the courtyard. There were groups of Men, and their squires, and dwarves. I recognized one of them, though his beard was much more grey since when I had last seen him. "Uncle Gloin!" I yelled, waving my hand back and forth. He did not notice me. Was I too far away? Or was he going deaf, like his older brother?

I left Merry and Pippin and raced down flights of stairs, trying to navigate my way to the front courtyard. I ran past Gideon, who was comfortably seated in a little nook among some statues of elvish scholars. I skidded, stopping myself and darting back a few paces. "Gideon!" I was happy, smiling ear to ear with excitement. "He is here! You were right, they did call for Uncle Gloin and he has come!"

"He has?" Gideon looked up.

"Yes!" I shouted with delight. "He's arrived just now."

There was no stopping me for I was too fast, and my sheer momentum too fierce. At last I found an exit, and from there on the staircase that descended to the front courtyard. If I had been wearing slippers instead of boots I'd be sure to lose at least one of the shoes. As it was, I was lucky not to trip or miss the last step entirely and end up falling flat into the stones. "Uncle Gloin!" I called again.

This time I was heard and the dear dwarf turned his head in my direction.

"Gloin!" I repeated. Unfortunately, I was so focused upon my 'uncle' that I did not even spot the white horse entering the courtyard, or his rider who was dismounting. I ran straight into the person, deflecting off them with a clumsy half-spin, then stumbled a little as I tried to continue my run and found myself a bit too unsteady. I heard behind me a distinct clattering. Glancing at the ground, I found a few dozen arrows, spilt from their quiver. "Oh, sorry." I said, as I bent down to quickly retrieve them.

The person knelt down as well, and as I stacked the arrows haphazardly in my arms, they picked them up quickly and neatly, with the strong, nimble fingers of an archer. I took a glance at the archer and my eyes met a pointed ear, framed by pale hair, and a thin elvish braid. My memory shot back to another elf I had once met with pale hair.

"King Thranduil?" I asked. I thought at the last second to dip my head a little, respectfully. Any memory I had of the elven king of Mirkwood was from when I was a little girl. He did not come very often to Erebor, since a peace and prosperous trade had been well founded between his people and mine. His few visitations were more matters for my parents and great-uncle than myself and my siblings. When we no longer adorable small children, they stopped presenting us to him officially. The last encounter I had with him was a dinner our family and him shared when I was the human age of thirteen.

The elf turned to me, and I saw that it was definitely a man, though he looked somewhat different from what I had pictured King Thranduil. Perhaps my childs-mind had saw him differently? The Thranduil I remembered was tall and serious, with a gaze that was almost cold. He was not cruel, but he held a firm authority about him. This elf seemed younger, with a softer gaze that did not strike me as cold. Still a bit serious, perhaps, but not cold. Maybe I had just been intimidated by his authority as a girl.

"You know of my father?" The elf asked.

"Your father?" I was surprised at first, before I recalled that Thranduil did have a son. I had never met him before though, he had left Mirkwood long before I was born. Now I was face to face with him, picking up his arrows which I had spilt in my rush. Oh dear, this was some display I had made of myself.

He must have seen my confusion. I quickly tried to gather myself out of the stupor I was in. "No, no, of course. You must be his son." I handed back the armful of arrows I had collected. "Here." I said softly. I tried hard to think of a name to put with him, but could not remember any. I kept my head lower, out of respect. When the silence stretched too long I tried to speak again. "King Thranduil came to Erebor a few times…I did not see much of him, really. I'm sorry, you do resemble him though." I defended myself. "I'm afraid I never heard much of you…?"

The elf gathered at last that I did not even know his name. "Legolas." He answered, depositing the arrows back into their quiver.

"Legolas." I finished. "My apologies." I nodded, excusing myself.

"Fali?" Gloin asked behind me.

"Uncle!" I cheered suddenly, standing up again and leaving Legolas. I soon had my arms wrapped around him.

"My, look at how you've grown, lass!" Gloin smiled. "Last I say you, you were just a wee, little thing."

"I was not so little." I scoffed. "Oh, it's wonderful to see you again!"

"Gimli has come with me." Gloin said.

"Oh, enough about Gimli." I teased.

"Excuse me?" Gimli turned around. He had grown much since I had last seen him too, and now resembled the old drawings of his father in many ways. He was wearing a small frown right now.

I smiled at him. "Of course, I am glad to see you too." I said. "Mother will be waiting impatiently for you all in the guest rooms we have."

"Uncle Gloin." Gideon called from the top of the staircase, being in much less a rush than I was.

"And Gideon too!" Gloin smiled.

"We both helped bring a ring here." I said, excitement bubbling forth. "You should have seen us. We were camping in the wild, and we fought off these creatures that hunted us down, and we walked the whole way here from the Shire. It took us over a week. It was a great adventure, just like the one you went on."

Gloin was beaming at the two of us and I was reminded of afternoons watching him spar at the training grounds, visiting him in the forge, and spending evenings on his knee as he told us tales of the Blue Mountains and of the quest for Erebor, and a few stories about Gimli that we patiently listened to. I stared around me as Gideon came to welcome him. There were so many people gathering here. Surely someone would know what to do with the Ring. Soon this whole ordeal would be resolved, and we could go home. Gideon probably wanted to do nothing but that.

Our little adventure, exciting and frightening as it was, was now finished. We had done our part, and soon my adventure would be a story, just like my Mother's and Father's. There was a small twinge in my heart, for although it had been exhausting and dangerous, it had been everything I had dreamed of as a child.

I walked back with Gideon, Gloin and Gimli (I had always found it so funny how dwarf names can sound so similar), happily giving over the responsibility of the Ring.

Little did I know I would be taking the responsibility back the very next day.


	9. Chapter 8 (A council and a quest)

**I've added in some parts from the book, such as the sword being forged again at the very beginning of the journey, and Elrond deciding on the members of the fellowship, and it taking a while before everyone went off on the quest. Please enjoy.**

Unlike my sister, I found myself able to keep out of matters that I had no control of, or part in. When I was told Frodo was in good hands, I believed what I was told, and let him rest until he woke again, healed. When Mother and Father insisted they could handle Bilbo's arrangements on their own, I let them do as they wished. When they said they would be attending the counsel the next day, I nodded and accepted it. Rivendell was a place of rest for me, and I could finally feel my twisted nerves uncoiling.

The library was a great comfort, and soon I was finding private corners of Rivendell to indulge in their literature, or admiring the place in general, for it was a very naturally beautiful location. Fali said she did not see much of Strider, who seemed to seek out privacy as much as I did. I however, had noticed him about. That is always the problem with people who seek privacy, they always find each other.

The time I had come across him was shortly after those called forth to the counsel had arrived. I had already had a happy, and long overdue, greeting with my 'uncle' Gloin and witnessed the joyous reunion of him, Bilbo and my family. Mother and Brimli, his wife, were much pleased to see one another again after years of only letters, shedding a few happy tears. I had taken a book under my arm and was seeking a quiet chair, when I saw him from afar, reading as well. "The shards of Narsil." Another person, a man, said. "The blade that cut the ring from Sauron's hand."

I paused then, and dared to look around the corner to man with red hair, dressed in the clothes of one who is of higher rank. He stood before a statue, which held the shards of a sword. He ran his hand along the edge of the blade, the way a man does when he inspects a sword to gage its worth. His hand flinched back soon. "It's still sharp." He muttered to himself, having cut himself upon the metal. Strider stared at him from over the top of his book and the man caught the stare. "But no more than a broken heirloom." The man said, seeming to have not been interested by the artifact in the first place.

I understood his reaction, having fallen under Strider's gaze during our travels. I felt as though I was not doing anything right either before him, especially after I had narrowly escaped the attack of the Wraiths.

The man quickly returned the shard he had carried to its place. As he turned to leave the piece lost its balance and clattered to the ground. He hesitated to return to it, but brushed it aside and left. I frowned at him a little. Yes, it was a broken sword…but it still meant something.

Strider stood and retrieved the shard, placing it back on the tray the statue held out. I was about to go forward and speak with him, when the lady Arwen approached from the opposite hall, and I had to duck back out of sight.

"Why do you fear the past? You are Isildur's heir, not Isildur himself. You are not bound to his fate." Wait a moment…heir? Strider was an heir? Heir to what household, to what land?

"The same blood flows in my veins. The same weakness." Strider replied to her and my mind raced to remember the name of his kin she had just spoken. Isiltur? Isilmur? No, no, no…Isildur. That name, did I know that name? I had read it before surely, for it passed through my mind, lighting up the distant corners of my memory. Had it been this book, in my hands? Yes. It might have been. I skimmed through the earlier pages of the book. Isildur, Isildur, Isildur…At last I spotted the name. It was in but a footnote at the bottom of a page. Isildur, King among men, the one who cut the Ring from the hand of Sauron, with the blade Narsil. A hero to the peoples of Middle-Earth, he had a significant role in defeating the great evil that plagued our world.

King? Strider was the heir of kings? Who with a sound mind and royal blood in their veins would name an heir of kings Strider? Strider was not a fit name for someone of such rank. Strider was hardly a name at all. Rather a name given by companions, heartfelt but unserious.

"Your time will come. You will face the same evil, and you will defeat it." She continued in elvish, and my recent reading of the translation scrolls allowed me to understand it partially. Something about a shadow not yet swaying.

"Thank you." Strider nodded. I was too busy thinking of the possibility of him being 'Prince Strider of such-and-such-land' to notice that Arwen had departed, and now Strider himself was making his exit, passing the statue holding the blade and coming around the corner to find me. "Master Gideon?" He noticed me soon.

"Strider…" I stumbled for words, becoming caught in the act of anything rendered my tongue to be changed to lead it seemed. "I was…reading, and…I was…here and I was…" To make my word fumbling even worse I bowed my head to him, some voice in the back of head screaming out that I had to be respectful to those also of royalty. If Vesper had been beside me now she would have been able to explain our presence with the outright truth. Or laugh at me. Or perhaps smack me upside the head. "Milord." I said quietly.

Strider seemed to sigh. "Rise Master Gideon. I do not deserve such a title."

"Your lineage would suggest otherwise." I rose all the same, as he directed.

"You overheard the lady Arwen and myself?"

I nodded. "The lady cares for you very much, if I may say so. I am not fluent in the language of the elves, but what she said sounded heartfelt."

"I am honored to have her affections." Strider admitted. He glanced at me seriously. "It does not become a man to spy in the shadows, Master Gideon. You should not fear to make your presence known, especially in a house of peace. You do nothing wrong by simply walking in these halls."

I nodded, silent, accepting the advice without complaint.

"Good day, Master Gideon." Strider bid farewell and then began to exit in the same direction as Arwen had gone.

"Good bye Strider." I said, and then after a moment, before he disappeared, "Is that your real name?" Silence followed my question. "I cannot think of many heirs who would be named 'Strider'. Is Strider only an alias?" Strider said nothing, and continued walking. "You shouldn't fear your true name." I said. "I know what it's like to be disheartened by your name. The first and only time I ever won a spar I was nine, or what Men would consider nine." I frowned, not liking to talk so openly of my childhood, though most everyone I knew had heard of it all already. "Everyone said I had great potential, but I never lived up to it, I think. I could never win. In fact the only time I did was when I was having a duel with this boy, and it was all by accident. In truth, I was terrified of him. And in the end of it all, I couldn't even stay mad at him and I became his friend because I felt badly for him. I'd make a horrid warrior. But I haven't changed my name because of-"

"I am known as Aragorn."

I stopped. "That is the name of a great man." I replied.

Aragorn nodded, and the two of us went our separate ways. I did not see him again until the day of the counsel. I told no one, not even Fali, of his true name. He would tell her when he felt the need to. Fali and I had not been invited in the strictest definition, rather we had come with our parents and stayed, seated upon stools behind Frodo, to which no one argued, so long as we were quiet and there only to support our friend.

Sam, Merry and Pippin, not having parents that were invited, and with us already filling the category of moral support, had to find other means of attending. In other words, they were hiding in the bushes.

 _It does not become a man to spy in the shadows…_

I looked over to Aragorn, who was waiting for the counsel to begin. His noticed my brief stare, and despite the show of trust between us earlier, I found myself still lowering my gaze in spite of the fact that were both of noble blood. I still felt I did not match him. He was man who had seen the greatness and danger of the world, and I had only read of it behind the safety of parchment and ink.

Fali was whispering quietly to Frodo. "It will be alright. Lord Elrond is very wise, everyone here is. They'll think of something. They'll know what must be done."

Frodo nodded, staying quiet in his chair. "Thank you Fali." He whispered back. "It is good of you to come here."

"Where else would I be?" Fali gave him an encouraging smile.

"It's good of you to join as well Gideon." Frodo nodded back at me. I had never been as close a friend as Fali was to him, but I still held him as a companion.

"I am as eager as the rest of us to finally see the conclusion of this." I replied, truthfully.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old." Lord Elrond spoke, and all the people attending hushed their private conversations. "You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall." He continued upon the gravity of our situation. Everyone bore serious looks, and I had never seen Mother, Father, or Thorin look so intense, sitting stiffly in their chairs, their faces near emotionless. They looked like proud, strong kings and queen.

Elrond called upon Frodo to bring forth the Ring, and he stood up, glancing a bit nervously around himself for a few short seconds, before he placed the Ring upon a pedestal before us all. There was a soft murmur among everyone, finally seeing that the evil object was in fact before them. Frodo seemed relieved to not be holding it any longer and seated himself again.

One man, the one with the red hair I had encountered before, stood and spoke of a strange dream he had, foretelling of doom. He called the Ring Isildur's bane, and moved forward, his hand beginning to hover over it. In fact, now that the Ring was out in the open, everyone was suddenly more on edge, and a little more focused upon the pedestal than they were before. It was as if the golden object was drawing us all in.

"Boromir!" Elrond said warningly, standing now.

Gandalf began to speech then, as the nobleman, Boromir became alert once more and sat down. It was not in any language I knew, but I understood by the eerie darkening of the sky above us that it was a black speech. It wasn't until halfway through the chant that Gandalf was using that I realised there was an echoing, dark voice within my ear, speaking also this language I could not understand, and I felt something like cold, bony hands grabbing at my shoulders, though no one was behind me.

When Gandalf finished his chant the voice died away, and I glanced nervously over to Fali. She had a look of fear and confusion on her face, which probably reflected my own. Her eyes said it all…she had heard a voice as well.

"Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris." Lord Elrond was surprised by Gandalf's chant, and disapproving of such a phrase being uttered in his peaceful halls.

"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West." Gandalf briefly apologized. "The Ring is altogether evil." He concluded, to which I agreed with him. Already this tiny object was attempting to prey on the minds of lords, kings and other nobles, the wise and just men of their territories.

Boromir spoke again, calmer than before, and with a small tone of hope in his voice. "It is a gift. A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring?" He suggested. "Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!"

It was a good enough idea, in theory, but in practise I had my doubts. Beside me Fali was barely containing a glare at Boromir, but thankfully remaining quiet. The other members of the counsel spoke of the possible outcomes of such a plan, both the good and the bad. Their voices were beginning to grow in volume from the number of people talking at once.

"You cannot wield it! None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master." Aragorn stood, and the discussions going on stopped.

"And what would a ranger know of this matter?" Boromir asked, as his idea died in the silence that followed.

"This is no mere ranger." An elf stood now. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance." He tried to respectfully remind Boromir of Aragorn's heritage. One could not mistake a tenser tone in his voice though, from which I deduced the elf had likely met Aragorn before.

"Aragorn? This… is Isildur's heir?" Boromir asked, a little surprised.

"And heir to the throne of Gondor." Legolas said. Aragorn looked as though he was sighing to himself, and said something to the elf, which must have been for him to sit down.

"Aragorn?" Fali asked me in a whisper. "That is his true name? He is heir to Gondor? Why didn't he tell us?"

I said nothing, merely shrugging.

"Gondor has no king." Boromir replied to the news. "Gondor needs no king."

"Aragorn is right. We cannot use it." Gandalf calmed the matter, making the decision for all of us.

"We have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed." Lord Elrond agreed.

There was pause, and the Gimli, who I recognized from my earlier years as Gloin's son stood. "Then what are we waiting for?" He took up his axe, and in the straightforward, rougher nature of a dwarf, took a strong swing of the weapon, which landed soundly upon the Ring. The full force of the act caused him to be thrown backward as the edge of the axe broke into shards.

The Ring sat there, unbelievably intact.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess." Lord Elrond explained. "The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this."

Mount Doom? Mordor? I shivered on my stool, and Fali had to place her hand on my shoulder to calm me as my heart raced at the thought of such a mission.

As if to mirror my inner thoughts Boromir spoke grimly to the counsel, saying "One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep and the great Eye is ever watchful." I could see it all in my mind, a thousand and one ways in which to die at the gates or in the dark soil, most of them involving quite a few holes being punctured into whoever the unfortunate being was. "It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly."

At this, I felt something within me stir, something beyond fear, something far darker. It was as if the Ring was responding to the idea, wanting more than anything to return to Mordor. The tension in the air escalated. Suddenly an argument arose between various parties, some loudly stating their thoughts, others trying to calm things down. The Ring sat shining in the middle of it all, and had it been a person, I was sure it would have smiled rather smugly at all the chaos. Chaos was what it wanted…what it needed in order to manipulate others…

"I will take it!" I was wretched out of my thoughts, my glance breaking away from the wicked Ring.

"Frodo!" Fali spoke louder than she had the whole time, grabbing him by the elbow, but he shook her off.

"I will take it." He repeated. Silence echoed as they all stopped, astonished. "I will take the Ring to Mordor…though I do not know the way."

Gandalf stood. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear."

"If by my life or death, I can protect you, I will." Aragorn rose. "You have my sword."

"And you have my bow." The elf who had spoken before stood.

"And my axe." Gimli got to his feet. Gloin watched him with round eyes.

"You carry the fate of us all, little one." Boromir joined them.

Just as I thought everything was falling into madness, more of it ensued. "Hey!" Sam leapt out of the bushes. "Mister Frodo is not going anywhere without me!"

Fali had a look on her face, one of firm friendship and loyalty and a courage that sparked and burned with great intensity. I placed my hand on her shoulder and held her down with all my strength, watching my family across the half-circle we were in and praying that one of them would not rise. To my relief, though they exchanged a few glances, they did not. They were not as young as they once were, and seen adventures enough for their lives.

Merry and Pippin burst out of hiding next and stood at either side of Frodo. "Wait! We're coming too!"

Lord Elrond held up his hand, stopping the apparent rush of volunteers. "You are all very brave." He said. "But this is a matter that must have thought. I will consider what is best for a successful outcome to our purpose."

"You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" Merry exclaimed, fighting for a spot in the forming brotherhood.

"Anyway you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission, quest… thing." Pippin tried to add in a bit that made him appear as enthusiastic.

"Well that rules you out Pip." Merry rolled his eyes.

Fali was having great trouble remaining quiet, and I was thankful when Elrond dismissed the counsel before her temper burst and she either joined them or flared up at me. The parties began to depart. Gloin rose and spoke with the blond elf, even bowing before him, perhaps apologizing for some of the outbursts in the midst of everything.

She shot me a glare. "I just didn't want you to…" I tried to calm her.

"Not now." She said stiffly. It was obvious she felt torn and hurt, and angry. She wanted to go and help Frodo, she had wanted to volunteer to Elrond with the others, and she hated being retrained so.

She left my side and went to go and release her emotions upon Sam, Merry and Pippin, demanding to know just what they were thinking.

I stood there, the only able-bodied young man who was not going off to speak with Lord Elrond, and feeling the gazes upon my back for it.

/

I saw Aragorn again in the halls, this time as I turned a corner on my way to retrieve a book, entering a courtyard. Aragorn held a sword in his hands, one that shone brilliantly. "Master Gideon." He greeted.

"Master Aragorn." I dipped my head a little. "That is your sword?" I asked, not recognizing it as the one he used on our journey from Bree to Rivendell.

"It was given to me by Lord Elrond." He explained. "It is the blade Anduril, reforged."

"The broken blade?" My eyes grew in size as I tried to piece the shards together in my mind.

"Yes." He nodded. "An heirloom…at last returned to its heir."

"You accepted it?"

"For the purposes of this quest." Aragorn answered.

"You do not want it?" I asked. "But it belongs to you, doesn't it?"

"In name." He answered. "In deeds done and in fitness to rule, we shall see."

"I believe you have done plenty of good deeds to deserve it." I replied. "Fali spoke endlessly of your travels and triumphs on the night of our arrival in Rivendell."

"How is the young princess of Erebor?" Aragorn asked me. "Last I saw her she was scolding our hobbit companions."

"Fali is a bit headstrong." I admitted quietly. "She has been friends with Frodo since he was very small, and she wants to help him again. She spoke with Lord Elrond about joining the fellowship he is choosing."

"Has he accepted her?"

"He listened to her with great patience but he has made no decision yet. Being a lady…it is an image that works against her."

"If she is anything like I have heard your mother to be, she will only keep trying."

"She has." I nodded.

"And what of you Master Gideon?"

"Me?" I blinked. "Oh no. No, no, no. I couldn't do something like what Lord Elrond and you have in mind."

"You do not think so? Fali said you were quite good with the sword."

"She says that, but I don't think I am good enough for a great quest like this. She told Lord Elrond of me…but he has not said anything of me either."

"Gideon!" Fali appeared suddenly. She tossed me my blade, which I had not touched my whole stay in Rivendell, and unsheathed her own. I caught the blade, but did nothing, a bit surprised by her sudden actions.

"Fali, what are you doing?" I asked.

"No one in this city will spar with me." She said, and swung at me. I took a few steps backward, out of the path of her sword and farther out into the courtyard. "C'mon. Let's have a go at it, shall we?"

"Fali, must we? Now?"

"Why ever not?" She replied, punctuating her answer with another sound strike. I blocked her quickly. "This courtyard is perfect for it. I have all the energy I need, as do you."

"Fali, can't you ask Father or Mother?" I asked.

"No." She shook her head simply. She made a particularly impressive move, which I blocked. "Oh, that one was spectacular!" She complimented me. "Well done Gideon."

"I don't know why you always want to spar with me. I never win." I frowned a little. "Maybe that's why…"

"Nonsense, you have better defense than anyone I know." She made another amazing strike, which I admittedly blocked without much trouble. "See? You're quick, and your grip is firm."

"I never get a strike in." I replied.

"But you rarely get a strike against you." She answered right back, and the two of us were then caught up in a hurried and intense duel that had her and I bounding along every corner of the courtyard. Fali was smiling through all of it. She loved weaponry and challenges and sword fighting. They were things she excelled at. I was lucky to be gifted with the ability to defend myself from anyone who ever decided to fight me, thinking it would be a sure win. There had been many of them in my younger years. While the challenge of the duel was debatable with me, I found myself always losing in the end, my complete inability to fight back costing me every match.

It was no different this time. After a few more minutes of sparring, Fali became quicker, and managed to strike her blade deftly underneath mine, pulling both weapons upward, and then snatching my blade from me in the middle of the air. She grinned, managing to catch it this time.

There was a small applause, from Aragorn who had sat on a nearby bench and watched the whole event.

"Well done, both of you." I looked up to a balcony overlooking the courtyard and saw Lord Elrond himself. He had been watching us as well. "It appears you were right, my young lady. You have a talent for such abilities." He glanced at me. "You certainly held your own against such a magnificent force."

"Thank you, milord." Fali called back. "Does this change your earlier thoughts?"

"We shall see." There was something impressed and amused in his tone.

I looked at my sister, who wore a proud, cheery look on her face, sheathing her blade again, and handing mine back to me.

My bones shook, my stomach went cold and numb, and adrenaline continued to soar through my veins, only enhancing these feelings. I had the growing dread that Fali would be going on the quest now…

… and so would I.

 **TheEarthSong- She can't help it, those hobbits are like her children, she's known them so long, and I hope I can continue to combine the two stories well**

 **OH IMAGINATIVE AND CREATIVE ONE- It's always nice to see some familiar faces, I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well**

 **From last time**

 **it'sareview- Thanks! It's always reassuring to hear that**

 **REDRydingHood- thank you for all the love and support, I love that you're so excited**

 **Eowilmathiel- Yay! More love for Gideon :)**

 ***Important***

 **I won't be able to update for the next week and a bit :(, my schedule is just packed so I probably won't have much time for writing. The good news though is that after the next hectic little while things slow down, and I'll hopefully be able to update on regular days of the week and with any luck twice a week like a did with Rue and GutM.**


	10. Chapter 9 (The Fellowship is made)

**It took a bit longer than I thought it would but I managed to update. Please enjoy.**

My heart had been racing since I spotted Lord Elrond and his advisors walking along the upper floor of his home. I had spoken with him many times over the past week, as Rivendell began to prepare for the upcoming quest. I needed to be part of this journey. Frodo needed me, and they could all use another blade on their side.

Being a lady certainly did not help. I had begun to consider if I should dress as a boy and see if they took me in then, as my mother had with Thorin and his company. Lord Elrond was patient, and he never once turned me away when I approached him to ask if I may become part of the forming fellowship. He did not quiet me either when I suggested Gideon. One my own, Mother and Father would never let me go, but with Gideon there by my side, the prospect was more likely. He never said anything about me or my brother going on the quest though, which had been worrying me.

When I saw my chance, I grasped it, and did not let go. I ducked back into the room we had been given, grabbed Gideon's blade and quickly involved him a spar, just as Lord Elrond passed the courtyard. Even better, Strider – or rather, Aragorn, as I should begin to call him- was present as well. He would undoubtedly be part of the fellowship, and if he was impressed as well, his opinion would definitely influence what would happen.

Now I walked out of the courtyard, feeling an energy swimming through me. Adventure! I could feel the sense of adventure building in me again, this time with greater purpose. I felt triumphant.

Then I turned to Gideon, who had pursued me through the halls. His expression was one of anger, and it was almost surprising for he was rarely angry. I stopped my walking, and he came up, cornering me against the wall. "What have you done?" He asked, his voice a mix of seriousness and anger, with a sharp note of panic underneath. "Fali, what have you done?!"

"He'd never seen us fight before." I said. "I was sure if only he saw us fight, and saw how well we could spar then he'd consider us."

Gideon took two paces back from me, his hands delving worriedly through his hair. " _You_ are the one who fights well!" He snapped back at me. " _You_ are the one who would do well on adventures, who _wants_ to have adventures!"

"Oi, he said you did great too." I reminded him.

"Why did you even mention me?" He asked. "You know I hate sword fighting, you know I've never wanted to go on a journey before in my life."

"Frodo needs us." I said, firmly. "He needs people beside him he can trust."

"He needs people who can defend him, keep him safe." He went on. "What makes you think he'll choose us anyway, out of everyone who suggested themselves? There are other Men, dwarves, elves…"

"Well, I've heard rumor he's letting Merry, Sam and Pippin go along." I answered. "Really, if he's letting the hobbits go, we're sure to be well thought of for the fellowship. We know Frodo after all, and what with the duel we just had, it's sure to speak volumes for us."

Gideon stood there, worried, and looking like he was an animal trapped in a hole. "Don't look so nervous." I said. "You did brilliantly back there, and you're sure to do brilliantly on a quest too." When his look did not fade I added encouragingly, "Just think of it Gideon….it's Lord Elrond's decision, and he won't choose you unless he has faith in you, and knows you'll do well with what a quest entails. He's very wise. If you chooses you, it's because he knows you're capable of such things."

Gideon dropped the worried look finally. His face shifted from that of concern to that of shock, though mild shock, luckily. "A quest…" He said, quite lowly in volume and I had to strain to hear it. "You and I on such a journey…how is it possible?" He went quiet, and after a short pause looked up at me. "What will Mother and Father say to this?"

I fought back a frown. "Well, they won't _like_ the idea, exactly." I answered. I wasn't stupid enough to think that our parents would love sending us off on a dangerous adventure. No, they would be concerned, like Gideon was, and be protective of us. But if Lord Elrond chose us, they would let us go, like any parent sends their children off, be they merchants to far off lands or soldiers to battle, or brides to another kingdom. They would not enjoy it, but I knew they would let us go, so long as we had each other. "I'll tell them tonight, if that's what you're worried about…me not telling them until Lord Elrond comes around with his decision."

It was clear he was still shocked, and his worries threatening to resurface. "Come." I said, more gently. "Let's see if we can find a peaceful place in a grove. You look like you could use some rest, and I wouldn't mind some practise with the tracking Aragorn taught me."

He followed me, and sat in a lovely sunny corner of one of the groves, letting me go off to frolic and track as I pleased. I left him to his own devices, seeing as my being there or not being there did not improve his state much. When I returned to him a few hours later, he appeared at peace again, though his hair was a bit disheveled from his fingers running through it.

I didn't know if I should bring up the quest, it being a delicate topic right now. However, when I approached him, Gideon looked up at me, and asked "Which one of us is to tell Mother and Father? You or I?"

/

"But Father-" I tried, as calmly as I could, to ease him.

"Do you know what you have done?!" Father snapped at me. Mother sat in a chair nearby, seemingly unable to stand any longer. Her face was as blank as Gideon's was earlier.

"I only wanted to make you proud, everyone else had sons offering to go." I tried not to snap. My brothers or cousins I could snap at. To Father I would never dare. My words were becoming more tense despite my efforts though, my temper starting to heat up, involuntarily as it always did.

"You are not a son, you are a daughter." Father said. " _My_ daughter."

"Do you think it not proper for me to go on a quest?" I asked.

"You know your mother and I have been nothing short of encouraging toward you and your swordmanship. We have supported your talents and wishes in that regard since you were the height of my knee." I sighed internally. Bringing up how I used to be a sweet little girl, full of spirit and smiles, was to make me feel a sense of guilt. How could I tear myself away from such loving and wonderful parents? I cleared my head, the subtle play not persuading me to do any different.

"I am grateful for that support." I said. "But if I stay in Erebor my whole life, all that training will be for naught. I cannot join the guards and soldiers. Let me go, let me use my skills."

Father groaned, heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Cunning, she has cunning like you do." He said to Mother.

"I will not go alone." I said. "Lord Elrond is considering us both, and he must know we are better together. It's what would be best for the Fellowship. Then there would be Aragorn, and others…surely he'll chose Gandalf, we'll have trustworthy and skilled companions with us."

"That is another thing." Father turned to me again. "You cannot speak for your brother on such a serious matter."

In that, I was wrong. Gideon would have never gone to Lord Elrond himself.

"I'm sorry." I nodded toward Gideon.

"What do you think of this Gideon?" Mother spoke at last.

"I leave the decision to Lord Elrond." He said, quietly. I stared at him. I had been gritting my teeth and expecting him to fight me. But he was only dismissive, surrendering the power to the wisdom of Lord Elrond. The Gideon I had known would have at least tried to get out of the path of any possible danger.

"You do?" Mother asked, surprised by his reaction as well.

"Yes." Gideon nodded. "I should have gone and suggested myself earlier, with the others."

She sighed. "Leave me and your father, we will discuss this privately, and decide what should be done."

"Yes." We both nodded, and made our exit. Mother closed the door behind us. As the two of us walked down the hall, we were silent, and did not glance at one another. In the dead silence I could make out parts of a conversation from our guest rooms.

"….dangerous journey…"

"….they are not children anymore…"

"…the odds are not with them though…"

"…they are both skilled enough…"

"….should we? We only want to support them…but is it safe to do so?"

"What if we are chosen?" Gideon asked, breaking the silence and shutting out the voices of our parents.

"It will be considered a great honor." I replied. I looked up at him and saw he appeared frightened again. "You fear an idea, the thought of the quest, but not yet the quest itself." I tried to reassure him. "It will be alright, you doubt your abilities too much."

"I could never understand how people like you could stare at something so fearsome and not be the least bit afraid of it. It's almost as though you don't see the danger in it, only the glory of it."

"The glory can be quite blinding, but I can still see the danger." I said. "I know it will be dangerous, I know I'll have to fight. But it's what I've always wanted Gideon. I've been hoping for a chance like this nearly all my life, ever since Mother first sat me in her lap and told me of her own adventures. I am prepared." I looked at him seriously. "And I need you to come with me, it's the only way Mother and Father will let me." Gideon's mouth fidgeted, as though he was trying to frown and scowl at the same time. "What you said earlier, about wishing you had gone to Lord Elrond earlier…were you lying?"

"I only want to make them proud, as you do." Gideon answered. He sighed, drawing in a great breath of evening air, and then letting it escape. When his sigh was finished he looked like he was worn thin. "I think I will retire now." He said. "Sleep well Fali."

Alone, I found myself unable to do anything but await what was to unfold. I retired, though out of nothing to do and not fatigue as Gideon did. The next morning, when the both of us woke up, Mother and Father spoke to us, and with heavy hearts said that if Lord Elrond thought we were worthy, then we should go. Mother absolutely forbade me to go along uninvited, and Father seconded her ruling. They knew Gideon would not go along if he was not asked, but I was apt to be more stubborn. Their decision, though difficult to make, was to trust in Lord Elrond's judgement.

Three days later, after trying to ignore the growing tension in me by constantly visiting with the hobbits, Lord Elrond approached us.

Both Gideon and I had been accepted.

I felt thrilled, already feeling adventure thrumming with every pulse.

Gideon nodded and thanked him. His face was passive, and showed neither fear, or delight. He remained indifferent over the quickly passing days that followed. The rest of the Fellowship was named. True to what I had heard in whispers Aragorn, all four of my lovely hobbit friends, and Gandalf were selected. The other three men were Gimli, who my parents and I were happy to know would be coming, the elf, Legolas, who I had spilled all the arrows of, and Boromir, who I recalled from the council. We were given a few more days to prepare our supplies, and I was trying my best to not appear too enthusiastic about the preparations and present myself as foolish.

Elven craftsmen judged my sword to be a good fit for me on the journey, and I was given a dagger by them, one of their crafting. It felt so light I thought the wind would tear it from my hands, and I had to practise holding it in my grasp, unused to something that bore so little weight. Weapons, provisions, and other supplies were all collected and rationed between us.

I could feel the rush to have everything ready in due time even in the kitchens. I was with the hobbits and we were all savouring one of the last hot and lovely meals we would be eating for quite a while, as elves walked between the pantries, fetching this and that. Fresh foods did not keep long enough for traveling so we would be having plenty of dried or salted meals. The only thing fresh for some time would be any meat we hunted down. Despite being half-dwarf, I was happily enjoying a salad, relishing my last few green vegetables.

"You know you don't have to carry a knife with you everywhere you go just yet, Miss Fali." Sam eyed my new dagger, which I was turning around in my hand as I ate, still practising.

"Practisin'." I replied, chewing on a piece of chicken.

"Some princess." Merry said, speaking of my less than refined table manners at that moment.

"Not as…" I swallowed, and took another bite in my mouth. "…bad as my father and uncle when…" I swallowed again. "…they ate here."

"The only knives acceptable at the dinner table are those for eating, carving and butter if you ask me." Pippin said, putting on an exaggerated air of propriety.

"One would also say it would be good manners to keep one's feet off the table." I joked back at him. Pippin smiled with mirth, and with a soft laugh retracted his great big feet from the tabletop.

"Eat, Mister Frodo." Sam said. "We'll be missing meals like this when we're traveling." Frodo had been a in a state of shock himself when he was chosen to come as part of the Fellowship. In all truth, it had been unspoken but agreed since the beginning that Frodo would be coming. He had carried the Ring this far, and he was the only one who seemed capable of carrying it the rest of the way. Nevertheless, after the small quest we had arriving here in Rivendell, Frodo had his concerns for the journey ahead. "C'mon Mister Frodo, we leave tomorrow." Sam prompted him.

Frodo smiled for his friend. "You're right." He nodded, and began to finish his plate of food.

"Enjoy it Frodo." I said, giving him a smile to encourage him. Through the network of elves in the kitchen, I spotted Gideon, returning from outdoors, a book in his hands as normal. "Excuse me for a moment." I said, and got up from my seat. "Don't start the pie without me." I added, as Merry began to eye the pastry over. The hobbit sighed, annoyed.

"Gideon." I called to my brother. "Gideon!" He turned around at the sound of my voice. "We're all having a decent lunch before everything begins tomorrow." I said, cheerfully. "We won't mind finding something for you, and Merry and Pippin found a pie…well they said they found it, that could easily mean they simply lifted it from some windowsill as it was cooling."

"I ate earlier." He replied shortly.

"Oh." I said. "Well, if you still fancy some pie…"

"I'm sure I'll have my fill to eat this evening." Gideon said. "It will be welcoming, a good meal and a pleasant night's sleep before it all begins."

"Yes." I agreed, as he made to leave. "Gideon?" I asked again, catching his attention once more. "Forgive me for saying so but I thought…I thought you be more…more…" I struggled for the right words.

"More frightened?" Gideon finished my thoughts for me. I nodded. "You and everyone else too, I suppose." He muttered. "Quests have never been something that anyone saw in my future. Fighting alone is something that was unseen."

"You are not frightened then?" I asked.

Gideon shook his head a little sadly. "I've never feared anything more in my life." He frowned. "I'm frightened out of my mind, and I feel like I'm trapped, but the only thing I can do is go on and act as though nothing bad is happening."

"Gideon…" I tried to calm him.

"I am stuck between two fates." He said. "Either I go off with you and the rest if the men and make an idiot of myself trying to be as brave as they are, and die-"

"Don't say that." I stopped him. I knew it was a possibility but it did no good to speak of it like this.

"-and I die." Gideon said. "Some way or another I die out there, run through by a sword or of some festering infection, or I...I fall off a cliff, who really knows how it will all end?"

"Stop it!" I snapped at him. "You could have always refused Lord Elrond and gone home, couldn't have you?! You could have returned home, and that's all you've wanted since we stepped out of the Shire."

"That is the other fate I could have faced." Gideon said, his tone growing a bit harsh. "I could have refused him, or not gone to him at all…which was what I was doing in the first place." His face was tight. "I could have been a coward, just as I've always been, and stood there, afraid, while Father watched everyone else's sons step forward."

"Death or dishonor…" I murmured to myself, seeing his plight. I stepped forward, wrapping my arms around him tightly…and then smacking him in the back of the head.

"Oi!" He touched the place I had hit.

"Have you forgotten you have me?" I said, trying not to sound angry. "What am I, thin air to you?!" I huffed. "You're not dying while I'm around, and you'll not be branded any sort of coward either. I'll give a decent scar to anyone who says you're incapable of courage and of this quest. I've seen you spar, and I know somewhere in there is a great swordsman, and if I have to push you into the ground a dozen more times and slap you upside the head again and again to make you see it too, then I'll do it without flinching!"

"Clearly…" Gideon muttered.

"We can do this." I concluded. "Both of us, together. Right?" Gideon looked doubtful for a second still, and I realised that all along he had a small streak of stubbornness in him too, derived from a hundred generations of dwarves. "Right?" I repeated, more seriously, and raising my hand a degree, making as if to deliver another love-tap to his skull.

"Yes." He nodded, perhaps out of concern from my raised hand, but it was said soundly all the same.

"Good." I nodded, grabbing his elbow. "Now come along. We're all going to have pie one last time. I hardly think we'll be seeing it for the next few months."


	11. Chapter 10 (Adapting)

In the end, I accepted the place I was given in the Fellowship by Lord Elrond gracefully. There was no agreement, nor any begging to not go. I thanked him and spent my next days burying myself into elven histories, trying to calm a nervousness that would not easily abate. The only good that came out of being given such a responsibility was the recognition I received from others. Once I had been only a young man reading the shadows, one who would hardly be noticed, and then I found myself being stopped frequently in the halls by people I did not know, who dipped their heads respectfully and congratulated me, wishing me a good, quickly paced journey.

I cannot lie…in those moments I felt honored, and as though I was worth more than I had been days prior. Such feelings only grew when similar treatment was given to Mother, Father and great-Uncle Thorin, who were told they must be so pleased to have both Fali and I selected.

They were honored, but couldn't hide concerns for us either. The day we departed from Rivendell, they had embraced for long moments, wishing us well, and warning us to keep safe. Though Mother tried to be secretive, slipping away for a few minutes, I noticed her, as she went up to Gimli, Aragorn, Gandalf and even Legolas, as they prepared to leave. I could faintly hear her speaking with them.

"I have come to wish you all well on the journey ahead." She said diplomatically. She turned to Gandalf, and her voice wavered for a second, before she composed herself quickly. "You seem to have been right all along Master Gandalf, it is peace I shall always know…danger and uncertainty are things my children will have to bear." The wizard placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Thank you." She whispered to him.

"We will not face it alone." The wizard replied.

"We will be beside your children." Aragorn assured her. "They have the opinion of Lord Elrond on their side. They are prepared."

"Aye, we'll make a fearsome Fellowship, indeed." Gimli must have smiled at her a little, though I could not see it past his beard from where I stood.

"Some of you I have known for a long time…" She eyed over Gandalf and Gimli. "…and some of you I have met in the past…" She nodded at Legolas, who returned the gesture. "…and some I have just met." She faced Aragorn. "But Fali and Gideon will come to hold you as the strongest of companions. They will be at your side, and watch over you with great loyalty. I hope that despite their youth, you will do the same for them?"

Aragorn knelt a little to be the same height as her, taking her hand. "It will be done, my lady."

With that small reassurance she thanked them, and then bid everyone farewell at Father's side, as we left Rivendell, and walked the same path the company of Thorin Oakenshield had years ago.

Fali looked forward.

I glanced back.

It happened that traveling across the wilds on a quest of epic proportions was very similar to the little journey from the Shire to Rivendell. One ate three brisk meals in a day, one walked over hill, plateau, and mountain, no matter the weather, and one fell asleep more or less exhausted. Then you were shaken awake and your watch in the middle of the night began, and you strained to hear the faintest of sounds and see through the black ink of the night. You shook the next man (or Fali) for the watch after you and fell back asleep.

The only differences were the additional people, and the time. It quickly felt like this journey would never be over.

My lacking skills were unnoticed thus far. We had faced little trouble, our only challenge the terrain which we traveled. The supplies of dried food we had were lasting better than expected, and the elf who was with us was so skilled a hunter with his bow, he would make even Kili and Tauriel's children green with envy.

After the first fortnight, my fatigue gave way to a routine that was embedded so deeply within me, my body now assumed it natural. Rising was not so troublesome, and energy was quickly restored with a few stretches and nourishment. Food that was usually unlikeable in taste mellowed to virtually no flavor, while those that were still decent heightened on my tongue. The muscles in my legs grew used to the long hours of walking.

A body could become used to anything it seemed. The mind, however, was more difficultly persuaded. Fali was enthusiastic and the hobbits seemed to share her optimism. I was grateful for the spirit she had, as I remained looking stoic with the others.

Aragorn was the only one who guessed my doubts as to my place in the Fellowship, but was kind enough to not speak of them. For that I was even more grateful. Gimli was every bit the proud dwarf and he had numerous tales to boast of, both his feats and those from his kin. Boromir looked to be a particularly unforgiving man toward weakness or doubt. It was better I remained quiet for now. Fali may have warmed up to the new travel companions but I felt I did not know them all so well yet.

I did not feel very worthy of their company either, having done nothing but take over a watch in the night, and nearly fall asleep walking a few times. I felt as though I had been utterly useless.

After a long day of walking higher into the hills, Fali pulled me away. "Come." She said. "We must take a turn hunting." The food provided by the elves was meant for scarcer days, when we were high in the mountains, where little game would be found. Fali pulled a length of rope from her bag. "You can tie up snares, can't you? Like how Mother showed us?"

A spark of remembrance came to my mind, and I recalled that I did have a talent that would prove useful for journeys, even if it was just the twisting of twine. With that spark of confidence, I took the rope. "We'll split up." I said. "I'll come searching for you after I've tied them." I took ten paces, before turning around sharply and adding " _Please_ be careful where you shoot." I added. Fali could fire an arrow, but not as well as our half-elf cousins. Half of the hunts she had with them they had made her run across the thicket, disturbing rabbits from their resting places.

I ventured off until I couldn't see the temporary camp that was being constructed. At this distance, the chance of game would be better. I knelt into the earth and tied a snare close to the ground, one large enough to catch the neck of a hare should it come looking for the nearby clover. When I judged it to be well made, I made two others in different locations, and then went off to search for Fali.

Fali had taken to hiding in the bushes it seemed. "Fali." I called out for her. I glanced far up into the trees, to see if she was crouching there, and then swept my gaze back over the ground, searching for her there as well. "Fali." I repeated. I did not like the eerie silence about me, it reminded me too much of when we had all crammed ourselves under the roots of a tree, hiding from Wraiths. "Fali, if you're going to pop out from behind a tree and try to give me a shock, it will be poor taste." I called out. It was like her to play such jokes, especially when she was in good spirits, which these travels and far-stretching landscapes had her in. There was no reply again, and I stopped, sighing. Perhaps she was not playing a joke, but so focused in her hunt she had blocked me out, which was far worse. I didn't fancy an arrow going through any part of me.

Proceeding to search for her in the bushes as I called out more loudly and stepped on every brittle twig and thrashed my hands into every set of branches proved an safe (though incredibly foolish) way to act. Anything to alert her that I was about, and not to fire an arrow.

"Gideon, shhh!" Fali hushed me, her mood snappish. "You're scaring off all the game!" I looked up to see her sitting in the 'y' of a tree, arrow notched but not aimed at anything yet.

"My apologies I only didn't want to be shot through…" I rolled my eyes.

Fali smirked at my light-hearted joking. "Come up here." She moved a degree, leaving just enough space for me. I grabbed hold of one of the lower limbs, and placed a foot flat against the bark of the tree, suspending myself and pulling my weight up to the higher branches, until I was seated beside her, as comfortably as I could be in such little space. Fali looked out over the forest floor. Currently there were a number of squirrels running around, and even daring to climb partly up the tree we had taken over. Fali was probably tempted to shoot at them, seeing as they made such excellent, challenging targets to practise with, but they were so small that the meat they would give would not be worth the arrows.

"There must be something out there…" She sighed.

"If you're thinking about deer, I don't think they'll come this close to us." I said gently. "Too much noise probably."

"Oh no, a deer would be too big I think." Fali replied. "Unless it was a yearling…we could always smoke what we don't eat, but with that much left over it would end up being too much work. I'm going to teach the hobbits to spar, hopefully starting tonight." A twig snapped and her bow, fitted by craftsmen to her size, snapped up, the arrow drawn back, ready to fire at any animal that emerged. No animal appeared though, and disheartened she lowered her weapon. "I hope your snares have better luck." She sighed. "I told Gimli we could manage just fine."

"I'm sure we'll catch something." I said, shifting more so my spine did not imprint itself into the branch I was leaning against.

"How are you feeling about all this?" Fali asked. "Any better now that we've been at it for a fortnight or so?"

"Not as bad as the first night." I said honestly. "Yourself?"

She smirked. "I think I've found a long awaited calling in life." She grinned. "I don't mind all the walking, and by now the bedroll is as comfortable to me as any bed. Once you don't miss the things you had so conveniently before, it's not so bad. I like waking up every day in a new place, it's never dull. All I hope is that we continue to have fair weather and don't run across any trouble." She grimaced slightly, probably recalling the wraiths herself. "Those would be sure to put a damper on things."

"And have good hunting ahead." I added. I could only imagine how miserable the hobbits would get on empty stomachs, causing quite the annoyance for us all.

Fali took this as a challenge, and fired an arrow into the bushes when she heard more movement, though she couldn't see what was there from her treetop perch. Pigeons erupted from the shrubs, a flurry of flapping wings and frightened 'coos'. She smiled at me victoriously and began to descend. "Not as good as Kien or Tauris…" She admitted. "But I'd be able to feed myself." She scrambled into the bush, and picked up the fat dead bird, shot in it's side. "I hope your snares are luckier." She said.

They were, thank all the Valar. Two of the three traps I had laid now had plump, clover fed hares handing from their cords. Snares weren't always the boldest type of hunting, one could never brag about some fantastic shot with them, and the catches were based solely on chance. If anything, one could say they had a good eye for locations where the game would be. But now, with my hunt having gone better than Fali's, I couldn't help but smile a bit to myself as I untied our dinner. "Good thing Mother passed on her skills, eh?" I asked over my shoulder.

Fali had her arms crossed, carrying her single bird. "You should see how smug you look right now." She said.

"Me? Smug?" I asked.

"Yes." She smacked me on my shoulder. "Though it is nice to see you looking so sure of yourself now." Her face lit up. "Maybe we can spar? Before we eat our supper?"

"I'm not sure about sparring just yet." I replied. I had no desire to show off the skills I had and did not have…particularly the latter.

"Please." Fali asked.

I turned my head, eyes narrowed. I gave her my hardest look and said, firmly "No."

"But if-"

"No."

Fali sighed again. "Smug and bossy too." She was smirking soon though. "I think being out in the wild is improving you. Another month and you'll be sparring with me, hunting with Aragorn…you may even grow a beard." She touched my completely hairless cheek.

We entered the camp again, bearing out spoils. Merry and Pippin looked the most happy to see us. "Oh, cronies." Merry smiled. "What will they be served with?"

"Pigeon." We both answered, and Fali tossed the creature to the unsuspecting hobbit, who flailed about to catch it.

"I was hoping for mushrooms personally." Pippin whispered as we passed them.

"You had good luck then?" Aragorn asked as we approached the fire, and I passed him the hares.

"Is that enough?"

"It will do." Aragorn nodded. He glanced the rabbits over. "Where are the marks left from the arrows?" He asked. Fali's pigeon had a decent sized hole in it's body, but the hares had their pelts still intact.

"Snares." I replied.

Aragorn examined the necks of the animals, drawing back the fur to expose the ring of raw flesh. "You were taught well." He replied. "Master hobbits…" He called to Merry and Pippin. "If you would prepare them." Merry and Pippin nodded and set to cleaning out the animals. I didn't enjoy seeing the slippery, hairless bodies turned out from the soft fur, but despite that, Merry and Pippin weren't going to let much of anything stop them from having a good meal.

Fali fulfilled her interest to spar by pulling Frodo and Sam aside and teaching them the finer points of weaponry. She was patient, and went along slowly. Frodo and Sam followed her movements, copying them as best they could. They would learn well under her, as long as her patience kept up with their learning. Right now she handled the duty of training them as well as the instructors back home, who were responsible for those in their first year of swordsmanship.

I sat and plucked feathers from the pigeon. Everyone else had settled down to a certain task. Gimli sharpened his axe, blowing off the bits of dust the blade had gathered in cutting down a few trees for the night's firewood. Boromir consulted a map over bended knee, a pipe between his teeth. Legolas and Gandalf spoke to each other, their eyes watching the horizon.

I didn't feel quite so aloof this evening. Maybe it was because I had finally contributed in a worthy way at last. Recording the journey as a make-shift scribe didn't qualify. Now I had something I could do. A minor thing, but in Fali words, at least I would be able to feed myself. So long as there was something I could do, so I didn't end up being a complete liability.

The sun waned and we all gathered from our corners to eat, close to the fire. "We rise early tomorrow." Boromir spoke up. "The lowlands are ahead of us, and there will be no cover from any enemies. We will need as much daylight as we can to make our way. Understood?" His gaze did not sweep over Aragorn or Legolas, but over the hobbits, Fali and I.

"We understand." Frodo said. "We'll rise before dawn."

"What are the lowlands on this side of the mountains like?" Fali asked curiously.

"The terrain will grow rockier, that much is certain." Boromir said. "The land grows hardly any trees…unless one considers boulders. It will be fairly barren."

"Oh." Fali replied.

"Where you expecting rolling hillsides, Miss Fali?" Boromir asked.

"No." She shook her head quickly. "I don't expect anything."

Boromir smirked at her. For all his stern exterior, there were cracks in his armour where some protective nature, much like Fali's, came seeping through. "The open sky goes uninterrupted for miles. One can see forever on those plains." He said. Fali smiled at the thought. His eyes fell on me. "Will you be ready for the challenge, Master Gideon?" He asked me.

I shoved the rising doubt in my stomach down with a swallow of hare. "Yes, sire." I nodded.

"Very well then." Boromir replied, believing me, hopefully. Either way, they had my word that I would not be a grievance the following day.

It was the oddest thing to happen to me since I stepped outside of Rivendell. I felt strangely calm out here suddenly. Maybe it was the hare in my stomach or the fact that I had been the one to provide it tonight, but I ready for the traveling to continue tomorrow. I felt more prepared to rise, and walk on, to have my three meals and then have my watch in the night before falling dead fast asleep. There was something of a spirit in the tasks now, not just an instilled routine. Was this how Fali felt about adventures?

Perhaps it was…

I was beginning to feel the first turning of a change, where I felt a drop of doubt fall, and an something much lighter fill in it's place.

I had began to have the smallest of hopes.

 **A tiny breakthrough for Gideon, he's getting there, he's trying.**


	12. Chapter 11 (A spar and a sky of Crebain)

**Getting back into routine (hopefully). Please enjoy.**

The great open sky was one of the finest things to behold in the lower lands, as Boromir had said. Perhaps it was only because I had been raised inside a mountain, but to me the blue heavens stretched so far I felt remarkably tiny in their wake. I had seen lands where no one lived for miles, trees and herbs that I had never laid eyes on before, and I was surrounded by dear friends and men who had lived for adventure and duty. I had never felt such a rush of excitement in my life.

Aragorn was ever patient in answering my questions, informing me on the properties of foliage (which were edible, which could cure and which could kill), the landscapes ahead, and relating tales of his previous journeys.

Legolas was wise in such matters too, though I do not think he always had that great of patience with me. A dozen questions answered and Aragorn would begin answering them instead, the elf too kind to say I was being a sort of annoyance. I had mind what I spoke to him of as well, for Gimli was apt to interrupt with his own opinion at times, and the two would engage in a sort of debate on the difference of elves and dwarves (Legolas's points being the more subtly voiced and Gimli's being the more direct). When such started I was quite forgotten between them.

One day I requested of Legolas to know if some speckled red mushrooms I had found were edible. He replied that they were unfit for our consumption, as he had seen them before in Mirkwood and knew they would make one sick. I had to send an apologetic glance to Merry and Pippin as I dropped the armful I had collected to the ground. Thus far in the journey they seemed to have done little else than gather firewood, cook, walk, and hunger. Poor things.

"I saw Mirkwood a few times in my youth." I said, conversationally. I didn't speak of how many of the trees on the outside of the forest had been dark and sickly at the time, nor how I had once heard spiders hissing late in the night. "The heart of your forest is very beautiful."

"Thank you." He nodded, as we kept up our walk over the land.

"Of course, I saw it long after you left." I went on. "It's very different from Erebor. Much greener, and brighter and you can smell the earth wherever you walk. I quite liked it there."

"Aye, travel and trade are all well and good…" Gimli nodded, coming into the conversation. "But can you imagine how drafty and dismal a forest would be in the wintertime?" He looked at me, and I saw that the pigheaded, loyal-to-a-fault nature of dwarves was about to come forth. "The leaves would be long gone, and the cold would be near unbearable. You'd be wishin' to back under your cozy mountain then, wouldn't you? There you'd be snug and warm."

"I suppose that would be true." Legolas nodded. "Though I have always found the sight of the horizon to make up for it. The price of the elements is well paid for the freedom to roam."

"Mountains are not as cramped as you may think." Gimli replied. "Our halls go on for miles…"

I sighed to myself, stepping backward and removing myself quietly, seeing as how they were speaking to one another than to me by now. I stepped so far back I bumped into Boromir. "Oh." I saw it was him. "Sorry."

"Looks like you've done it again, Miss Fali." He nodded at the dwarf and elf. "They seem to be at odds once more, and after having spoken with you."

"I do not encourage them to argue." I defended myself. "They seem quite capable to pitting themselves against each other on their own."

"Then you make a very fine catalyst." Boromir went on.

"I'm sorry." I repeated. I didn't want to make any trouble within the Fellowship. "I'll try not to bring anything up they can possibly debate so heavily on…though at this rate it seems like they'll find anything to bicker about like that."

"I wonder if Lord Elrond could foresee how well those two would get along." Boromir sighed heavily, as the conversation between Legolas and Gimli faded, and the two separated, Gimli looking reasonably annoyed, and Legolas's face a bit more tense than it had been before.

"Dwarves and elves don't get along very well, normally." I tried to explain. If he doubted Lord Elrond's choice in Legolas and Gimli, I could only imagine what he must think of Gideon. My brother had yet to pull his sword from his belt, for hunting or friendly spars. "King Thranduil once turned his back on Erebor in time of need, and most dwarves are keen keepers of grudges. Everyone was so surprised when my uncle, Kili, fell in love with the elf maid, Tauriel. Such a thing was thought impossible. At first many were uneasy about the whole thing, but the mountain grew quite used to her eventually."

"Let us hope they grow used to one another." Boromir replied. He swept his glance over all the companions. "Your brother…" He spoke up. I tensed, dreading what he may say of Gideon. "…was he taken in by your mother and father?" He asked. "I only wonder because he bears so little likeness to you or your parents. Perhaps he is truly your cousin, but you have become close enough to call each other brother and sister?"

"He is their son, and my brother." I said, and was unable to hide a harsher tone, my temper, much like my mother's unable to tolerate such a thing.

"My apologies." Boromir noticed the spark of fire in my voice. "I know of your family. He merely looks different from you and your siblings, and with his name being not similar, I wondered…"

"You need not wonder any longer." I said quickly. "If our great-Uncle Thorin's hair had not turned grey by now, you would have been able to see that he resembles him."

"Then why the name Gideon? You and your other brothers have names that begin with same letter as your Fathers. Is that not a custom among dwarves, that names should be similar to show the bonds of kin?"

"He is named Gideon after one of my Mother's brothers, who passed long before we were born or thought of."

Boromir nodded. "Forgive me. Though I have heard of the family of Erebor, I do not know all of your history."

I still remained frowning. Boromir snickered at me. "I have never seen a princess who gives such foul glares." He smirked. "You must be quite the lady."

"I was never very good at being a lady." I admitted. "The sword has been one of my better gifts."

"I noticed you have tried to train the hobbits." Boromir glanced back again at the four of them, as they spoke with Master Gandalf, at the back of the company.

"Frodo and Sam are showing promise." I smiled, proud of my little friends. They were so unused to this sort of atmosphere, and though they did not speak much of the Shire and their homes, I knew they missed those comfortable, familiar spaces. They were trying hard to keep the pace of the others, and learn to defend themselves, not wishing to rely on anyone for protection. I could not be more overjoyed with their determination.

"And what of the other two?" Boromir asked.

"Merry and Pippin could use more practise." I confided. "I think they're beginning to think me quite pushy after all I've tried to teach them."

"I will see what I can do." Boromir said. "We have been fortunate this far to not face any trouble. I doubt our luck will hold indefinitely."

I nodded in agreement. We had been lucky this far.

"Why has your brother not spar?" Boromir asked.

"He wishes to be a scribe." I replied instantly. "To him, the written word is a sword." I glanced back at my brother. I would have to get him to practise his skills soon, whether he liked it or not.

/

By that evening we had found a sheltered enough place to camp. "Are you alright Frodo?" I asked the hobbit. I had been spending much of my time absorbing the knowledge of Aragorn and Boromir now. I quite liked Boromir, despite his harshness at times. He sort of reminded me of my extended cousin Dain, only a bit calmer, more composed, and far less hairy. I was too intrigued by the people we were traveling with I feared the hobbit thought I had neglected him.

Frodo detached his stare from the flames. "I'll be fine." He smiled a little. "The walks can get quite tiring." He fiddled absentmindedly with the little silver chain around his neck, which held the Ring.

I gently slapped his hand away. "Don't play around with that." I reminded him firmly. "You know what happens when you wear it."

"I won't wear it." Frodo replied, his tone serious. "I wouldn't dare Fali. Not after what happened while we were traveling to Rivendell."

"You say that now." I replied.

"You don't believe me?" He seemed almost hurt that I would not trust him.

"It's not that I don't believe you Frodo, I do…but it seems to have a mind all its own. I don't want you to be manipulated by it." I scowled at the Ring, which was visible through a gap in the buttons of his shirt. It was almost as if it was scowling back at me, angry for disrupting its plan. "It wouldn't do to encourage it."

Frodo dropped his hands, holding them out to the warmth of the fire instead. "All right, whatever eases your mind… _mother_." He teased. I punched him in the shoulder.

"Hilarious." I jabbed back at him.

Gideon was on the other side of the fire, writing of the days progress. I noticed that Boromir had taken aside Merry and Pippin and was practising with them. I didn't know whether to be pleased or angry by how they worked with him so well, even better than me. I had taught them the numbered positions, but with Boromir they performed better than they had with me. Maybe I had gotten too bossy for their liking…

I watched as he advanced on them in turns, calling out the numbers of different defence positions to gently remind them. Aragorn and Gandalf watched the spectacle whilst smoking on their pipes. Aragorn encouraged them from where he sat.

I thought to give out my own encouragement. "Keep your grip firm, Merry." I reminded him. My outburst distracted him for a second and he barely got into a stance in time. I winced.

"Not now, Fali, you're not the teacher this time." He replied, rolling his eyes at me.

I huffed but quieted myself, as Boromir have me a smirk and turned his attention to Pippin.

I rose from my seat beside Frodo and approached Gideon, taking the book from his hands, closing it, and placing it back in his bag.

"Are we to go hunting now?" Gideon asked. He was more comfortable with hunting now, having been successful before, and for that I thankful, but he had to show that he the blade he carried was not just to show off at his side.

"No, Gideon." I said, sounding cheerful. "I'll think you and I will spar now. We need the practise."

"Spar?" Gideon repeated me. "Now?"

"Yes." I nodded, pulling out my blade.

He glanced at the others around us. He had never been one for audiences when he took part in combats, and now he looked even more uncomfortable, having to perform in front of those who were more practised than himself. I touched his shoulder. "They are beginning to think you will never lift the sword you brought." I said, quietly. "You must show them you intend too, and that you will be able to when the time comes."

His head lowered a little, as though he had suspected they had such thoughts of him, and now he knew that to be true. "Come, surely it will not be the worst fight you ever had." I said encouragingly.

Gideon stood then, and pulled out his own sword. "Let us have a spar then." His tone was hopeful, if a bit forcefully so. By now we had attracted the attention of a few of our companions. Frodo and Sam were watching us curiously, and Aragorn's gaze had shifted from the hobbits to us. Gideon and I found a flat enough space, and stood opposite each other.

"First to have at sword point?" Gideon asked. I nodded, and then held my blade ready. Gideon took up a ready stance from his side.

"Frodo?" I asked. "If you wouldn't mind calling the start, and then announcing the victor after?"

He nodded, and waited until both Gideon and I had firm stances before calling out the start. The two of us advanced to the center, our blades swinging overhead to meet each other, and colliding with a grind as they braced at their hilts. Boromir looked over his shoulder as he switched again between Pippin and Merry for another drill. He saw Gideon and I, blades in hand and with intense faces. I hoped he noticed Gideon especially and how much he knew of this art. Gideon was the first to slide out of the block, taking a few quick steps in retreat and then attempting to swing at me. His aim was fine enough, and I had to retreat a step backward myself to avoid the blade, but one could tell it was a weaker strike, performed a little haphazardly.

I struck back, more confidently, and Gideon blocked me overhead, and then at his side, slipping down to deflect the secondary attack from me. I tried again, with similar results. Gideon attempted another offensive strike, a bit more successfully this time, but not strong enough to go against a counter-attack of my own. I spun on my heel to swing at his other side, and he turned, rushing past me, so that all we did was switch sides of our quickly made sparring pit. I sighed, and then prepared to shove him. If there was anything sparring lessons with my brothers or Kegan, or my parents had taught me, it was that you could not be afraid to fight a little dirty now and then.

I shoved my shoulder against him, pushing my weight against his chest. My shoulder buried itself into his sternum and I felt a great rush of air leave him as his lungs were compressed. He stumbled back, losing breath and balance. He dropped his stance, as his body sought to regain what it had lost, and I was quick to attack again. He defended himself still, deflecting a few more attacks, rather than blocking them, and hurrying to regain the ground he had lost.

Gideon managed to compose his stance again, after a moment of dancing on the edge of defeat. He gave me a small glare, and raised his blade again. "That was well done." I said. "I thought I had you for sure."

"You sure learned how to shove people around from Kegan." Gideon spoke of the lad I had back home.

"He was the one who did it first." I recalled how he had pushed me into the dirt the first day of my training, and a bond (rivalry in it's early times) between us had been born. I was interrupted in my memory though when Gideon tried to swing at my side, hoping to catch my blade and knock it from my hand. I snapped back to attention and caught his blade closer to the hilt, and stronger in my movement than he was. The blade was flung from his grasp and I was quick to point my sword to the center of his chest.

"Fali wins." Frodo announced from the fireside.

I caught the others glancing again at the end of the spar, and wondered if they had saw it all from start to finish. Gideon retrieved his sword from the dirt, and placed it back in his belt. "Satisfied now?" He asked, quietly.

"I am, and you should be too." I answered. "Did you not even notice how you saved yourself after I pushed you? That was impressive."

Gideon sighed. "It's only impressive if you win."

"You did not win the fight we had in front of Lord Elrond." I reminded him gently. "He was still impressed."

"If anyone was to ask for my opinion…" Gimli began speaking aloud, loud enough to be heard by us all, but directed at Gandalf. He went on about how he imagined we were taking the long way to our destination. "If I may suggest an alternative route, I would say the Mines of Moria would be much quicker."

"Moria?" Both Gideon and I asked. No one had seen Moria since we had sent armies there to reclaim. No one had heard from those armies for years. At best the ravens had been scared away, and more likely, that army had been devastated. Who know how many of our men were still in those halls?

It made my heart sore to think of it, three of my dear 'uncles' part of the grand mission. It hurt to imagine them trapped in the dark, always on guard, tired and living off the food stores…and that was if they hadn't…I shook my head. When I thought of Balin, Ori, and Oin I preferred to think of their kind smiles, and how they had held me on their laps or given me books or patched up my scrapes and bruises.

"No Gimli, I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice." Gandalf shook his head. He didn't seem to like the plan either, knowing of the misfortune the mines had caused in the past.

"We won't know what we'll find, but you know as well as I do, it's bound to be the quicker route, and the more sheltered." Gimli added. "The mountaintops are no cheery place this time of year. We'll be digging our way through snow and ice. Mark my words, there will be blizzards with winds fierce enough to blow the hobbits off the edge!"

"Ow!" Pippin cried out at an accidently injured hand.

"Sorry! Ahh!" Boromir shouted as he was kicked in the shin and a lively tussle between the hobbits and him arose. I would have pulled the whole thing apart, laughing at them, but now I stood concerned, watching Master Gandalf and hoping he would know what we should do.

"Get him!" Merry cheered, trying to pin Boromir to the ground.

Aragorn moved to separate the three of them, and Gideon and I glanced at one another, both with concern this time, thinking of Moria.

"What's that?" Sam asked, and my gaze turned South to where Legolas was watching the horizon. There was a dark, misty cloud out in the sky.

"Just a whiff of cloud." Gimli dismissed it.

"It's moving fast…" Boromir said, as the mass rolled in our direction. "…and against the wind."

My muscles tensed with an eerie feeling. "Crebain from Dunland!" Legolas suddenly shouted.

I had never heard of any sort of creature called Crebain before, but followed Aragorn's order to hide quickly. Gideon and I sprinted to a hollow in the ground, and hide ourselves between the surface of the overhanging rock and the shrubs on the other side, sinking deeper and deeper to the ground. I could hear our fire being doused and hurried steps over the stone, before everything fell silent for a brief moment.

There was an eruption of sound, the intense squawking of what sounded like a hundred crows, and a flurry of beating wings. The sky was alive with black birds, that encircled our camp. The second they had arrived with such sudden intensity both Gideon and I had tensed further, sinking down farther to the ground, enough to lay upon our sides. My breath was in quick pants that matched my heart rate, and I nearly jumped when I felt Gideon's hand on my shoulder. I didn't know whether he held on to comfort me, or himself, or the both of us.

A moment later it stopped as suddenly as it began and they all left together. Gideon and I waited before sitting back up and then removing ourselves from our hiding place.

"They are moving back in the direction they came from." Legolas announced. "We must have been seen." He added, grimly.

"Spies of Saruman!" Gandalf exclaimed. "The passage south is being watched."

That day things changed, the moment the Crebain had blocked the sun with all their wings. They cast out the light of good fortune we had carried with us that far into the journey, and left us with our plans dashed, having to retrace our steps to find a safer route.

We walked into the night to keep up with the changing weather, and when we at last stopped I fell down, exhausted, and for the first time since we had left Rivendell, I did not feel so safe as I slept.


	13. Chapter 12 (A chill sets in)

**Another update, I don't own lotr, please enjoy, you know the drill.**

It got colder and colder with each day. Gideon and I had our cloaks tucked tightly all around us and pulled up to our noses when we slept. It was horrible to wake up and find that your hand had slipped out of the warm confines of your bedroll and into the open air. My fingers would be so pale and chilled that they were numb and the veins would be blue and visible.

There were three things capable of warming yourself in the cold altitudes. Fire, which we were able to sit around in the early morning long enough to unfreeze ourselves and eat our breakfast, and then in the evening to make sure we were warm enough to go to bed. Walking, so long as you kept your pace up and blood pumping, and finally when all else failed you had to rub at your hands, arms and stiff legs until you could feel sensation in them again.

It was like being numb, and stiff, and encased in a block of ice for nearly all the day.

And then we climbed so high we reached the snowy plateaus. Snow. Snow made everything worse.

"Gimli?" I asked at midday, as we paused to rest ourselves, and the pack-pony, Bill. I fought the urge to ask him if I may stick my hands into his beard. It sounded odd, but I just wanted my hands to be nice and warm again. I dismissed the idea and buried my hands into Bill's mane. Better than nothing, I supposed.

"Yes, lass?" He asked.

"Would the pass through the south have been any better?" I asked, supressing a shiver. "Any warmer?"

"There wouldn't have been snow at this height." He frowned a little. "Those poor hobbits will have cold feet from here on."

I turned to them. Perhaps there was some material somewhere, something that I could use to tear into strips and tie around their feet. Just something to keep away the chill. I worried about them in the cold, they were used to gentle winters in the Shire. Each day they rose from there bedrolls, not frozen in their sleep, I was relieved.

Sam was shivering I noticed, rubbing warmth back into his hands. "Sam." I called to him. "Come over here. Stick your hands into Bill's mane, it's warmer." I glanced at all the hobbits. "In fact, all of you should."

"Good idea, Miss Fali." Sam chattered through his teeth, and joined me. "Mister Frodo?" He called over to our Ring-bearer, who was eating a crust of bread. "Come and warm yourself up, the sun is weak today."

"The sun feels like it is weak everyday now." I sighed, pressing my hands against the warm pony. "How is he?" I asked, whispering to Sam.

"The sooner we get out of this freezing pass, the better." Sam whispered back. "That ring weighs heavy enough on his mind already. The cold is not helping any matters."

"At least we have not run low on food." I added, a small flicker of optimism. I looked up higher into the mountains, where our path led. "Hurry, Frodo, we will be moving soon. Warm your hands while you can."

I moved aside so the hobbits could all press themselves close to Bill.

Gideon was looking at the path ahead as well. "It doesn't look like it's going to improve any, does it?" He asked.

"No." I shook my head.

"It'll probably only get worse, won't it?" He blew hot breath into his hands.

I nodded. "We may have to leave Bill down here. I don't think the pony will manage with all the snow."

"Truth be told, I have doubts as to how we'll manage with the snow." Gideon wrapped his cloak around him more securely. "How deep do you think it will become?"

"Our knees?" I guessed.

/

"So it's a little above our knees." I admitted a few days later when we higher in the mountains than I had expected. "I should have suspected really, given our shorter stature." I glanced back at Gideon, and the hobbits, and the snow that reached up to my hips. "Good thing I didn't wrap anyone's feet." Indeed, with all the snow underfoot, it would have only melted, soaked the cloth and froze over. Not that we had enough material for it anyway.

"Jus-st keep m-moving." Frodo chattered at me. He had already been through enough the last few days, having dropped the ring once when he slipped on a hidden patch of ice. He had rolled down the hill and I had feared for a second that he would not stop rolling until he reached the bottom of the mountain. He did stop though, covered in snow, and the Ring was thrown from his neck. Boromir picked the dreadful token up, and held it curiously for a minute, speaking quietly of its small size, and how insignificant it looked at first sight. Luckily, was soon shaken from his tense silence and he placed it back in Frodo's palm. I raced down the hill, grabbing Frodo's elbow, and dragged him up the ground he had lost, brushing snow from his clothes before it melted down and left him soaked and frozen stiff.

"C'mon." Gideon said, taking hold of my wrist then and helping to pull me over the lumps of snow in our path. Snow stood out plainly against his dark hair, trapped in his braids.

Gandalf was at the front of our company, ploughing through the white drifts, and looking very white himself from all the effort, his robes and beard now full of snow. We all followed the narrow, stamped out path ahead of us, huddled together like a pack of wolves against the wind. Gimli was right, it did feel as though it could blow us from the mountain.

Legolas walked past, much faster and unimpeded, his steps not breaking the fragile drifts, nor his body seeming to be phased by the storm. I was reminded of the light-footing of my cousins and how unfairly they had used the advantage in hunts and spars. In that moment I was struck with jealousy again, and felt I resembled Gimli as I internally huffed at how he was able to face the winter storm so easily, while I was stuck at this achingly slow pace, in all the bitter cold.

The wind whipped my hair into my face again, and I could feel it freezing onto my skin, both surfaces wet with tears the wind had torn from my eyes and melted snowflakes. When would this end? When would I be able to feel my fingers again? When would we be able to feel something besides the terrible cold, seeping into our very bones?

When at looked at anyone (the exception being the entirely-too-fortunate Legolas) all I could see was a grim serious face, and a body wracked with shivers, pressing on through one of the world's most uncomfortable ideals.

The wind howled sharply than ever, so much that I lost everyone's voices, but Gideon's, the two of us pressed together for warmth. Between the shrill sounds of the wind in my ears, I could make out certain yells from Aragorn, who was trying to get the attention of Gandalf. How the wizard could hear him was beyond me. I discerned but two words: turn back.

Upon hearing this I had the briefest of conflictions between wanting to hurry over the mountain and be on our way again, and turning back to a warmer passage. The prospect of warmth won out. I was only human, and at this point I cared not if I it was upon my urging that we turned around.

Raising my voice to speak of my agreement was unneeded however. There was a thundering sound from above us, and I had a second to look up in surprise before a heavy layer of snow came falling down on us without mercy.

I had been hit by many the ball of snow by my brothers before, but to have so much of the stuff fall on you at once _hurt_. It was as if my entire body was slammed against something, especially my head. Then the cold surrounded every part of me, and then I let out a gasp I had been holding in, only to find the air did not go anywhere but back in my face.

It became a lot like drowning, only in something solid. There was no air, or space around my immediate face to open my mouth, or effectively open my eyes. Instinct took over and my hands started clawing at the icy mess. Before panic could set in much farther my hand shot up above my head and into the wind again. After dislodging clumps of snow above me, I at last freed myself enough to take in a great breath of air.

My neck swiveled in it's brace of snow, and I saw Gideon pop wildly up beside me, showering me with snowflakes as he did. As we continued to dig our way out, and heave ourselves back on top of the bank, I could hear Boromir shouting "We must get off the mountain! Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!"

"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Aragorn had to shout his reminder against the wind as well.

"If we cannot pass over the mountain, let us go under it. Let us go through the mines of Moria."

My mouth was kept shut, not knowing the better alternative. One thing was for certain though, we could not stay here, and continue this road. It was too dangerous now.

Gandalf looked undecided and eventually replied "Let the Ring-bearer decide."

"We cannot stay here! This will be the death of the hobbits!" Boromir argued again. He was right. Merry and Pippin were practically huddled under his cloak like little birds under a parents wing, and looking extremely pale.

I had my own argument as well, but I did not wish to lay more pressure upon Frodo. Gideon had similar thoughts to me, and quietly brought the thought up. "We cannot carry on like this into the night, Mister Frodo." He told the hobbit. "Whatever you choose, you cannot go wrong if you choose a different trail."

Frodo gazed around anxiously and shivered. "We will go through the mines." He said finally, and I felt a breath of relief was had by all.

At Gandalf's "So be it" we were already descending the mountain, header to lower, more sheltered slopes. The process of growing colder as we climbed higher reversed itself. We all thawed out, and by nightfall and a few hours around a fire, feeling was restored to our limbs. I gently handled the little elvish dagger, Gimli flexed his fingers around his axe, and Legolas carefully plucked at his bowstring, all of us grateful to find our fingers capable of weapon handling again.

It would take another day to reach the walls of Moria, but the walk was far more comfortable, and the hobbits far less likely to catch their death of frost bite. Late in the afternoon, Gideon approached me. "How do you feel about traveling through Moria?" He asked.

I was shaken from my warm and once again cheery state of mind. Moria, the wars, the sieges…my beloved uncles. The halls were probably crawling with enemies. We would have to search out the fortified corridors where our brave soldiers still sat on guard, and pray they gave us safe passage. I shook my head. Of course they would. If Uncle Balin was still among them he would open the way for us and come running to our arms, remarking how much we had grown. I briefly wondered if Oin, Balin and Ori would recognize Gideon and I. It had been years, but our appearances had not changed too dramatically.

In fact, I actually smiled then. Gideon and I would soon be useful, our kin were in this mountain and they would let us through. No trouble at all, once we found them. How ever many of them were left…I quickly dismissed the thought, and took on an optimistic air to make up for the depressing days spent in the snow.

"It will definitely be warmer than the other way over the mountain." I said.

"There's more than dwarves in that mountain…" Gideon reminded me.

"I'm sure we'll be able to manage." I said. "There are so many halls and tunnels, they cannot all be occupied. So long as we keep ourselves hidden, it should all go well." I smiled. "And once we find Uncle Balin's men, the rest will be simple enough."

I noticed Gandalf and Frodo speaking in hushed tones. This caused concern, as Gandalf had looked conflicted as to taking the way through Moria, though he had made no objection when Frodo made his choice.

"The walls of Moria." Gimli said in awe, and this snapped my attention to the smooth cliff in front of us. It looked to be just any other surface of rock, but was polished like grey glass, and sheltered in what appeared to be a sort of cove on the end of a lake.

"To think we would come here…" I mused quietly.

"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed." Gimli said, beginning to tap his axe along the face of the rock, and educating the others on the history of dwarves. Gideon and I already knew of dwarven doors though, from tales of our childhood.

"Yes, Gimli, their own master cannot find them if their secrets are forgotten." Gandalf replied, beginning to search along the rock for the entrance himself.

"Why does that not surprise me?" Legolas said, to which Gimli grumbled, but held his tongue.

"Where is it?" Pippin asked, staring at the blank surface of the mountain, confused. "I don't see anything."

"Wait." I said, watching the dim sky grow dimmer. The moon was become visible through thinning clouds. "Watch for the moon."

At last the pale light was shed against the mountain and then the surface of the rock changed. Silver-white light seeped through the rock, in the image of a gateway, an arch of two ivy covered pillars with the vines braided together. At the top a star shone, and the keystone of the arch bore an inscription.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" I asked Frodo. He stared at the captivating light, and nodded.

Gideon stepped forward and placed his hand against the rock, glancing over the image. He ran his hand across the doorway, searching as the others had done. "There is no keyhole." He said.

"And we have no key anyways Master Gideon." Gandalf said, moving beside him. He pointed up toward the inscription. "It reads 'The Doors of Durin — Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter.'"

"What do you suppose that means?" Merry asked, and at this I had to run my fingers through my hair with a sigh. It was obvious, was it not?

"Oh, it's quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password, and the doors will open." Gandalf answered with more patience for the simple lives of hobbits than I.

The wizard then stood before the doorway, and said in a deep voice some phrase in elvish.

"Gate of the Elves, open for me." Gideon translated. He had become familiar with the tongue of the elves from all his reading and translating in Rivendell.

Nothing happened. "Perhaps you had better appeal to the dwarves…" Gideon suggested quietly.

Gandalf spoke again, and Gideon translated "Doorway of the dwarf-folk, listen to the word of my tongue."

"Nothing's happening." Pippin stated the obvious. At this Gandalf appeared annoyed and a little disheartened. "What are you going to do, then?"

"Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them, and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words." The wizard snapped, his patience for questions gone.

At this we settled in for what looked to be long night, as Gandalf paced and tried to recall spells from long ago.

"I do not have that dense a head." Pippin scoffed. "Do I?" He asked after a pause.

I shook his shoulder. "Don't worry over it Pippin." I smiled, watching as Gandald tried another verse, unsuccessful.

"Thanks." He grinned back, and then after another short pause. "Wait…you didn't give an answer." He said, offended.

"You are not dense enough to break down the wall of Moria."I assured him. "You're clever when you need to be." This was a far more appealing answer for him.

"Fali! Gideon!" Gandalf called us to him.

"Yes?" I asked. "What happened?"

"Perhaps the gate will open for those who are in the Line of Durin, as this is Durin's domain." He stood us in front of the gate. "Go on, have an attempt."

"What are we supposed to say?" Gideon asked.

"Say anything." Gandalf urged us.

My brother and I glanced at each other, a bit confused, but stepped up none the less. "Hello." I said to the gate, feeling a tiny bit foolish. "Umm…I, Fali, daughter of Fili, son of Dis, daughter of Thrain, heir of Durin, ask that the gate to Moria open." Nothing happened. I had thought the addition of my lineage would be helpful, but it had done nothing. "Perhaps in khuzdul?" I asked Gideon.

He nodded, and made the second attempt, using the old, sharp edged language of our people, but this also had no effect. "I'm sorry Master Gandalf, it will accept only the password." Gideon apologized.

"It was a worthy try…" Gandalf sighed, seeming to run out of ideas.

We returned to our places on the edge of the lake, and watched as the ripples from Merry and Pippin's skipping stones had fell.

"Did you see that?" Gideon asked suddenly.

"What?" I asked, scanning the water. "A fish?" We could use more meat seeing as we only had yesterday's hunt to keep us through Moria.

"No." Gideon rose, and waded into the shallows of the water.

"Stay on the shore, Master Gideon." Aragorn said. Gideon nodded, grabbed something from the bottom of the lake and returned. He held it out to me, and I saw it shinning in the moonlight. It looke like a rock from the bottom of the lake, covered in green scum, and calcium. Aquatic plants and snails had invaded the object, but there was a uncovered portion that still showed it was not a rock.

"It's made of metal." Gideon said. "It's just been all twisted up and in the water for years."

"What is it?" I asked.

"It's a riddle." We all turned to face Frodo who had risen from his log, and spoken. "Speak 'friend' and enter. What's the Elvish word for friend?"

Gideon studied the item in his hands. "Fali…" He said, his voice sounding strained in his throat.

"Mellon." Gandalf spoke the word, and there was a great rumbling in from mountain, and the image of the archway was split in two, creating two doors which opened to a dark interior. Moria stood before us.

"Amazing." I muttered. "We finally have it."

"Fali…" Gideon sounded as though he might choke.

"Have you ever seen anything like that?"

"Fali!" He grabbed hold of my shoulder and forced me to turn back to him.

"What is it, Gideon?" I asked, a bit annoyed.

He held the item out to me. "It's Oin's horn."

 **Details from the book**

 **\- The wizards don't actually have a spell battle thing on the mountain, the decision to go through Moria was because of extremely bad weather**

 **\- The dwarves know that reclaiming Moria wasn't very successful, I tried to write it so they can be shocked that no one is there, but they are definitely not expecting ale, and roast meat like Gimli in the film is talking about**

 **\- Oin was killed by the giant squid monster when he went to go reclaim Moria, this is why Gideon finds his ear-horn in the pond**


	14. Chapter 13 (The Mines of Moria)

**Update time, thank you to everyone who followed, reviewed etc.**

Shock rendered me mute for a few seconds. I could see it, like when you are a child looking at an array of clouds and someone says it resembles something and then it suddenly does when you think of it. One moment I was staring at some old decaying treasure, rusted by water, and overgrown with green slime, and the next, I saw and knew it to be my uncle Oin's horn, smashed in and broken.

"How…how did it end up in the water?" I asked, swallowing a growing fear.

"He must have dropped it."

"How could he? He cannot hear without it."

Gideon shook the stray drops of water, scraped the snails and plant life from the horn and then stuffed it into his own bag. "They're going now." He nodded past me to the open gate of Moria. "We have to keep up."

"What about Oin's horn?"

"For now, we just have to hope for the best."

Considering the best was that the lake had been deeper years before and Oin had lost it in the watery depths by accident, and now had been deaf all these years, I was feeling rather grim as we went to the gate of Moria.

Grim was not even close to what was waiting for us beyond the gate. First there was the darkness all around us, not even so much as the pin prick of a lit candle to suggest someone was present, or shed light upon the walls. Master Gandalf had to cast an enchantment, causing the crystals at the top of it to light up. Despite the small size of the translucent rocks, they shed a decent amount of light.

"This is to be the home of my cousin, Balin." Gimli said. "He sought to take it back from the foul creatures that invaded it years ago, when it was the greatest of dwarf kingdoms. And to think we called it a mine. A mine!"

My eyes adjusted to the light that was provided. There were long shadows cast around us, and there was a heavy, damp smell, and something that was unfit to breathe in. Something foul and old. Ages of dust and cobwebs were piled in the corners. The shadows stretched farther as we took a few tentative steps forward. My eyes followed them to their sources.

My heart stopped painfully, my breath caught in my throat. Bones. At first my mind thought of animal bones, trying to numb myself to shock again, and not see something as it was. But the truth could not be hidden for longer than a moment, and my heart began to accelerate as soon as it all sank in. Skulls with dark empty sockets, frail hands gripping at the air, and ribcages stripped of flesh. What skin did remain was dried and wrinkled beyond recognition, resembling a tanned hide. The only thing that remained dwarvish about them was the beards, which they bore even in death.

"This is no mine, it is a tomb." Boromir breathed, as we all saw the dead among us.

"No…no…" Gimli was in equal shock. Deaths we had anticipated. The piles of corpses were not what we had pictured at all. There was simply too many splintered shields, too many protruding arrows, fallen swords and bare bones to be taken in all at once.

All of them had been brave men once, and they had run straight into their doom, making it only steps into the mountain.

I began to back away, slowly, trying to control the rate of my heart and the steadiness of my breathing. Legolas plucked an arrow from a warrior's chest. "Goblins." He bit out, a look of disgust on his face. The arrow was dropped, and he drew one of his own, fitting it into his bow. The others followed his lead, drawing swords, and I grasped my own. We still did not know what lay beyond our perimeter of light.

"We make for the Gap of Rohan." Boromir said, inching backward quickly. "We should never have come here."

"Frodo, Sam." I called behind me, a bit weakly. "Get out. Merry, Pippin, you too."

The hobbits had already been starting for the door, never having seen before such a grotesque display of death. In truth, neither had I. But at least I had heard the stories more often.

"Get out!" Boromir ordered them.

"Frodo!" I heard multiple yells from the mouths of each of the hobbits. "

"Strider, help him!"

"Help!" Frodo shouted, a great amount of panic in his voice. I spun around my heel and saw _something_. It reminded me of a squid I had once seen in a fishermen's net in Dale. But this one was incredibly and horribly gigantic. It's size have it great strength as it lifted Frodo as though he weighed nothing. Strength, size, and the speed with which it would move it's tentacle made for a frightening combination.

The hobbits were fast enough to grab hold of Frodo and pull hard enough to keep him from being dragged into the water and drowned. They continued to call out for aid, as the monster tugged back at Frodo's legs.

Suddenly more of the giant, twisting tentacles shot out of the water, and grabbed hold of Frodo again, any spare ones creeping through the air in search of others. Something in me finally snapped back, and my body took over, subduing my mind. I raised my sword and struck out at the first arm of the squid to come at me. The

The flesh of the monster was soft, and split easily under the blade, oozing a strangely dark blood. From somewhere in the depths of the water there was something like a scream, as Aragorn also slashed at the beast. An arrow flew by me, sinking into the arm that clutched Frodo, before Legolas pushed past me, and took aim of the creature again.

"Get back inside, Fali." Boromir pushed past me as well.

"No." I answered, quite plainly, stabbing into one of the arms again. "Frodo, stab it!" I shouted at the hobbit. But Frodo was stuck, the tentacle around him making it impossible for him to reach for his sword as he was swung about the air.

The water was in chaos itself, being splashed around by the beast, making it almost impossible to see exactly what it was. I stepped into the water to attack it again, but I felt hands on my shoulders pulling me back. I suspected Gideon, and shot him the briefest of looks, only to find it had been Boromir. Gideon remained on the shore, standing in the narrow space between the dark caverns of Moria and the water-beast. He was quickly ushering the hobbits into the same area.

Frodo shouted out again. In great fear his words took on an unintelligible quality, half speech and half plain cries for help. He hung perilously over deep water, which swirled around, and torrents of mist sprayed into the air from it's center. I saw something grey and slippery from within, much like the tentacles. Gills, likely.

"Aragorn!" I shouted to the ranger.

Aragorn swung his sword, and with such accuracy that it sliced completely through the arm which held Frodo. I was surprised . Mine had only left a mark, though a painful one. To sever an arm of that size entirely…what were elvish blades even made of?

The beast shrieked. Frodo fell, and Boromir managed to catch him before he fell completely into the water. The severed appendage collapsed into the lake, dousing the two of them with water from head to toe.

"Into the mines!" Gandalf called, pushing Gideon and the hobbits into the caves. I retreated instantly, as the rest of the tentacles began to move along the ground like snakes, trying to grab at us.

"Hurry, Fali!" Gideon said, rushing out to snatch my entire arm and pull me along by it. He stabbed at the end of one of the tentacles when it came to close to my ankle.

"Legolas!" Boromir called the elf back as he hurried Frodo to the safety of the mines. The elf stood on his place on the shore and continued to take aim of the creature. At Boromir's call he looked around and saw that the others were already behind him. He fired the last arrow and it flew through the spray, eliciting another high pitched shriek from water-beast. Through the great mist I could see the end of it, stuck in the animal, probably within its eye from the way it continued to howl on.

We returned to the shadows, trying to melt into the walls as the tentacles followed, wrapping along pillars and still covering the floor. The farther and farther they followed us the more steps backward we took, until I feared I may step unrespectfully upon the foot of a fallen dwarf.

The rock cracked under the force of the beast's tentacles. The fractures in the stone were soon growing at the same rate as the tentacles themselves. Gideon and I were smart enough to take the hobbits under our cloaks and lower our eyes, knowing what was going to happen. Gimli shielded his eyes in the same fashion. We had grown up in a dwarf kingdom, we knew something of the collapse of a mine.

There was a low rumble of the structure of the gate losing all its stability, and then a thundering crash as they were torn apart and rock piled upon rock, smashing and colliding into a great heap. A thousand little pieces of shale and boulder were cast out at us. Dust flew out in an enormous cloud. The others were quick to shield their faces as the mess rolled over us.

The dust filled my throat, drying it out. I coughed, burying my face into the corner of my cloak. Frodo was likewise having a coughing fit. After a moment we all poked our heads out, eyes blinking away the last of the floating dust. "Are you alright?" I asked Frodo.

He was drenched, and the dust had clung to his body on any patch left exposed, but he nodded. "Alive and well." He cleared out his throat with a one forceful cough.

"You're not hurt? The beast didn't injure you?" I questioned further.

"It made a few attempts." Frodo checked himself over quickly, and Sam did the same from the corner of his eye. "But it didn't manage to."

I looked around me, taking in Gideon's pale face. A scratch from a piece of stray debris was bleeding lightly, emphasizing just how white he looked. I touched his shoulder, and even gave one of his braids a comforting, friendly tug. The gateway was destroyed, nothing but a mound of jumbled stone. There remained only a small hole of light at the very top.

"Miss Fali…? You don't suppose we could climb up there and fit ourselves through?" Sam asked.

"No Sam." Gideon answered before I could. "It's too unstable."

True to his words, the last few wobbling slabs fell into place, shutting out the last of the moonlight.

Frodo sighed.

"It figures we should have no luck." Merry drooped his shoulders.

"We have but one choice." Gandalf said, as he restored light to the caves again. "We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than Orcs in this underground world."

"How long is the journey to the other side?" Gideon asked.

"Four days." Gandalf answered.

"Four? But Erebor can be traveled across so easily."

"These mines go deep."

There was nothing more to do than walk on, for those four days. Four days with no hunting, four days with no sun or sky, four days of finding corpses strewn on the floor.

The walking was pasted in near silence. No step was permitted to echo on our journey through dim mines. We came upon some silver veins in the stone, running like a million tiny rivers through the rock. "Silver?" Pippin asked me.

I stared at the lines and shook my head. "No," I brushed my thumb over the vein. "Even more rare Pippin. Mithril. I've only ever seen it in some of the armouries back home."

"You don't make coins out of it then?"

"No, that would be a waste. Mithril is unbreakable."

"Bilbo was given a shirt of Mithril rings by Thorin." Gandalf said, in a hushed tone. His patience with Pippin had returned.

"A kingly gift!" Gimli remarked.

"I never told him, but it was probably worth more than all the Shire." Gandalf added, guiding us along.

On and on we went, up stairs and down stairs, by this corridor and that one. The only sound to be heard was the faintest brush of our boots on the stones, and few hushed snappish remarks of 'Merry!' and 'Pippin!' as the two in question bumped into one another, slipping on stairs or stepping on toes. I glanced around me, imagining this was what Erebor looked like when it had been abandoned. The only thing that was different was a hoard of orcs in the place of a dragon.

"It probably killed him." The words nearly shocked me in the immense quiet.

"Gideon…" I sighed, grabbing at my heart. "You startled me."

He was holding out Oin's ear-horn. "That beast in the water must have killed Oin." He grimaced. "Oin and a few others, just like it tried to drown Frodo."

"He shouldn't have died that way." I frowned thinking of it. "He was old, he should have passed away in bed. He was too adamant about coming here though. You knew Oin, he believed he was the best healer under any mountain."

"It's so strange…" Gideon whispered. "Having proof he's gone now…has been gone for years. All this time everyone was hoping there was someone alive in here."

"Someone may still be alive in here." I quieted him. "It takes four days to cross this kingdom, surely there is some hall to hide in."

"Fali, I saw what lay beyond the gate with you." Gideon voice was hopeless in tone. "I see them right now…" He motioned to more fallen men, propped up against the walls.

"Gimli?" I asked, quickly.

"Yes, Miss Fali?" He asked.

"Do you think we will find anyone down here?" I asked him, hope still in my eyes.

He paused for a moment. "I hope so, lass."

"We must have hope." I whispered to Gideon. Hope was to be our light in this dark mine.

Gandalf paused at a crossroads of the mine, and glanced at each path in turn, three doorways staring back at us. We waited for the wizard to continue to guide us, staring down the three paths when Gandalf uttered some rather upsetting words.

"I have no memory of this place."

"What?" The word was near-gasped by myself, Gideon, the hobbits, Boromir, Gimli. The only ones who did not appear immediately phased by Gandalf's loss of knowledge were Aragorn and Legolas.

"We must move on." Gandalf continued. "Staying here will not do us any good."

He chose the path in the center and we followed in his wake. Fortunately, there were no bodies to be found. This raised my spirits. Perhaps someone was here. If no man had fallen here, surely this corridor was safe. Wasn't it?

I still walked on not making a single sound. Who knew how far a noise would carry in all this silence.

I kept up hope better than the others, though they could not be blamed. Three days had passed within the walls of Moria. I was quick to enjoy the benefits of traveling through the mines. Thus far we had not heard so much as the squeak of a mouse, and certainly not the sound of an orc. Though it did get a bit chilly in the gloom it was nothing when compared to the snow we had faced.

Of course the cheer of my mind could not always keep the bodily pains away. Most of the pains were ones of hunger. As I had said, there was no hunting to be had under the mountain. We had rationed the food accordingly, but even I could not ignore the fact that our supply was running low, and we currently had no way of replenishing it.

One night (or rather we thought it to be night, we had not viewed the sky for days) we all sat clustered around the fire, while Gandalf smoked and tried to map out where we were in the mountain. Hunger did not suit Merry and Pippin very well, and they spoke to each other in a quick, almost sarcastic manner.

"Are we lost?"

"No."

"I think we are."

"Shh! Gandalf's thinking."

"Merry?"

"What?"

"I'm hungry."

Frodo started behind me, and I glanced at him. "Frodo?"

"Down there." He pointed below us, and I saw something scurry away into the shadows. Something that resembled the creatures of my nightmares as a child, human-like but not at all human itself. A shiver ran through me.

"What was that?" I asked, but Frodo had already scrambled over to Master Gandalf.

"There's something down there!" He sounded frightened, and I tried to search the carverns below to catch sight of the creature again.

"It's Gollum." Gandalf answered. He did not sound at all surprised by the thing's presence.

"Gollum?"

"He's been following us for three days." Gandalf nodded.

"Three days?" I asked. And we had noticed him only now? I stood, and now more curious of the creature than afraid I began to descend to see if I could see him again. I tried to stay within the limits of Gandalf's light, and then stared into the dark.

A small rustle came from the depths. I stared. It came again. And then again. Had the creature climbed all this way up? And so quickly?

There was a more intense rustle, this time loud enough to capture the attention of others. Then something flew up through the darkness, and into my face. I had to put my hand over my mouth from making any loud noises of surprise.

My hand gripped the hilt of my blade instinctively, and I spun around to strike at the little dark creature.

"Oh." I beheld a raven in front of me. "Oh! Look, it's one of the ravens of Erebor!"

True to its form, the messenger bird placed one clawed foot in front of the other, and dripped it's head in an odd little bow of respect.

"Do you think it belongs to the soldiers?" I asked. I held out my arm, and the bird hopped onto it. No message was tied around it's leg. "It doesn't bear word from anyone. No one is using it."

"It's probably been living off insects in here all these years." Gideon said. "It's probably a nestling from the original ravens." He stroked the bird affectionately.

"Fali." I turned to Boromir, who had spoken.

"Yes?" I asked. I looked from the raven to him, and beheld a serious expression. "Boromir?"

"Bring the raven here."

I did not like the vague order. "Why?"

He looked at me apologetically. "There is nothing else to hunt in these caves."

"What? No!" I brought the bird closer to me. "These ravens are meant to be messengers, not game."

"We do not know how much longer we will be in these halls."

I stared from the dark feathers to him, to the bird and back. "Aragorn…" I attempted briefly.

"I am afraid he's right." The ranger sighed.

I stared at the trusting bird for another moment. How many ravens had I seen back home? How many did their work so willingly?

How else would we find food down here?

I sighed, and stepped forward to Boromir, bearing the raven.

He held out his arm for the creature to step onto. "Do not worry, I'll not be cruel with him." He promised.

I was just raising my arm to transfer the unfortunate raven when Gandalf, much relieved, said "Oh! It's that way."

"He's remembered!" Merry grinned.

"No, but the air doesn't smell so foul down here. If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose."

I smiled. We had found our way. Soon we could leave Moria behind us. With joy, I lifted my arm and freed the bird, sending it off toward the ceiling. Boromir and I watched it leave.

"It seems that the raven and us have found a bit of luck at last." Boromir replied, then turned to gather his things.

Gideon stood behind me, and appeared to have watched the whole event with tight apprehension. I shook his shoulder. "Don't worry, Gideon." I smiled. "Soon we'll all be out of Moria."

Soon everything would be restored to normal again.


	15. Chapter 14 (What lies in the shadows)

**Finally got a chance to update. Please enjoy.**

Hope always finds ways of extinguishing itself. It is clearly one of the most fragile of treasures on this earth. One day I had hope that the whole journey could be passed without much incident, and that I might even be able to be as respected as my traveling companions. The following days I had been led through biting cold, a monster at the bottom of a lake that threatened to kill us all, and now the dark tunnels of Moria.

To add to this, I kept spotting the dead in the corners of the halls.

Fali held her hope up like a torch, and through it she could always see a light at the end of the misfortune. I was not so lucky. I had passed enough fallen men already, and I did not hold onto any thought that somewhere in this mine there could be anyone alive.

When Gandalf at last said he knew of a way out, my relief was immense. For a second his words fanned a tiny flame of hope to life. When Fali set free the raven I was even more relieved. Food me may have needed, but I did hate any form of death, and having been surrounded by it for days now I was tense, and had troubles sleeping in the night.

In the quiet, I noticed the sound of our light steps changed, taking on an echo. Wherever we were, the room had broadened out, and considerably at that. "Let me risk a little more light." Gandalf said, and our vision of the room before us was intensified. In front of us a great expanse of pillars and arches in the ceiling dominated the caverns, polished smooth and the white wispy veins of marble glowing back in the light of Gandalf's staff. Gimli and Fali both had small audible gaps at the sight.

"Behold: the great realm and dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf." Gandalf said.

"Now there's an eye opener and no mistake." Sam breathed.

Indeed, my own eyes were probably wide with amazement. My head glanced back and forth. Here was what my great-Uncle Thorin had fought for with his father and grandfather. This city was the prize for the battle in which he was given the name of Oakensheild. The kingdom Balin had attempted to bring back. They would both be proud to hear we had stood in the halls.

"Incredible." Fali remarked, walking over to touch one of the pillars with her fingertips. "No one has lived here for centuries."

"There would have been thousands of dwarfs." I said, my gaze traveling over everything. "Can't you imagine it?" I recalled what I had read of Moria. "Marketplaces that spanned for miles, the sound of hammers pounding mithril, dozens of pages running back and forth." I touched the pillar beside me sister. "There was once so much life within these walls." I glanced around at the emptiness of them now, and frowned. So much life…and now the kingdom sat here like an stone shell.

We continued on our way, passing the pillars. My eyes remained fixed ahead, my hand shifting to the hilt of my blade, in a nervous habit I had formed since the gate had collapsed. There was a gasp suddenly, and my gaze was torn away. For the first time in days I saw real light, reflecting into a small room on the side of the hall. Gimli was the one who first rushed in. I looked past him and saw more dust and cobwebs, more bodies strewn about. There was certainly a good quantity of them for a room of that size.

A tomb, which the light shone upon.

The others began to follow after Gimli, and Fali rushed behind him. Gimli collapsed to his knees before the tomb, his face one of tragedy. Fali stood behind him, and made at first to grab at his shoulder, but then her face changed. It contorted into despair, and her hand that was outstretching toward Gimli covered her mouth. She choked back a sob.

Fali was in tears, and it frightened me further. Fali was the brave one, the one who stayed cheerful and optimistic. Now she cried, and my heart was stopping. I took a step forward, tentative and slow.

There was an inscription on the head of the tomb, written in runes.

Balin.

No.

No.

A million memories flashed through my mind. The kind uncle, though he wasn't truly an uncle, with the snow-white beard and so much wisdom. How many times had I seen him in the workrooms? How many times had he complimented me in my studies? He had held us as infants, he had seen mother and father, Uncle Kili and Tauriel, married.

I glanced at the inscription again as Fali turned and buried her face into my shoulder, taking in deep breaths and trying to calm herself. "Balin too." She was shaking. "He's gone too."

Yes, it still read his name, Balin, son of Fundin.

Lord of Moria. They had proclaimed him a lord, an incredible honor.

To us he was not seen as the Lord of Moria, to us he was a friend first, very nearly family.

One of my most supportive uncles, in every name but blood, was dead.

I buried my own face down against Fali's shoulder, patting her head, and stroking her hair.

"He is dead then. It is as I feared." Gandalf said, with sorrow in his own voice. He had known Balin well too, back in the days when Erebor was being reclaimed. Gimli let out an unsteady breath that held the air of a sob, or cry of despair.

Now we knew the truth. No one was alive.

Not Oin, Balin, or Ori.

I thought of Hana and Orian, the scribe's wife and son. They had held onto hope all these years, and for nothing.

The world in that moment was dark and unjust.

Gandalf removed his hat, and gave it and his staff to Pippin to hold. He bent down before a corpse that held a great book in his hands, carefully moving the bony hand that was overtop the volume.

"We must move on, we cannot linger." Legolas said in a hushed tone to Aragorn. Fali's head rose from my shoulder and her face bore a scowl that did not even try to hide itself. I could tell she was biting her tongue to keep from snapping at the elf prince. For a second I thought she would, but she turned and knelt beside Gimli, and whispered a prayer with him quietly.

Gandalf blew the dust from the pages of the book, and read aloud. "They have taken the bridge… and the second hall." Gimli and Fali went quiet now, and stared up blankly at the wizard. 'We have barred the gates… but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes."

I knew it then, the way the simple written words conjured such a picture in my mind of the growing fear, and the hopelessness of the mission.

Who else would be writing when doom was so close at hand?

Ori. It was him. I quickly checked the ring upon his hand. Yes, here was his final resting place.

"Drums… drums… in the deep."

This was what war did. It killed everyone, it left nothing but devastation and rot. What about this kingdom was so valuable it was worth the risk?, I thought to myself angrily.

"We cannot get out…"

None of this had been worth it. Every last warrior was gone under this mountain. They had been fighters, born and bred. And I? I was no fighter. I had no dream for the iron swords and glory that occurred here years ago. I didn't even know what I was doing on this quest.

"The way is shut." Gandalf finished after a tense pause.

 _Bang!_ There was such a terrific smashing and banging that it made very hair on the back of neck stand on end. Each sound echoed off the walls, surrounding us and overwhelming our senses after we had grown so used to quiet.

Our heads turned to the source of the noise, and a sheepish Pippin, red in the face with embarrassment, stood by a headless skeleton sitting on the edge of a well. A guiltier culprit I had never seen.

The rest of the skeleton followed, tangled in the chains of the well. The resounding crashes commenced again, setting my nerves on edge, until I was left shaking lightly, and disturbed.

"Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" Gandalf slammed the book shut, as Pippin winced at his mishap.

 _Boom._ The air around us shook. My eyes widened again and Fali and I stared at each other. _Boom. Boom._ The heavy drumming went on and on. Then there was another sound, like an inhuman shriek, rising from the depths of the mine. True to the words of Ori's entry, the ground quaked beneath us.

"Frodo!" Sam pointed at his friend's belt, and Frodo pulled out his sword, which was giving off a blue glow.

"Orcs!" Legolas shouted. His shout was followed by shrill sounds, which could only be the war-cries of a good many orcs.

The drums started to sound more like a heartbeat, pounding furiously in my ears. Boromir, unlike me, was not frozen still at the side of a corpse. He rushed instinctively to the door, and began to push the heavy slab of wood closed. An arrow embedded itself into the wood, narrowly missing his face. My breath was caught in my throat in that moment, thinking for a second the arrow had carried off his nose for all we knew.

When he flinched back I realised he was not harmed, yet. Aragorn put down his torch and ran to help him. "Get back!" Boromir ordered the hobbits. "Get behind Gandalf!"

Merry and Pippin were already in his shadow and Sam was quick to grab Frodo and pull him there as well. Fali had jumped to her feet and was gathering all sorts of fallen weapons, muttering small apologies to the dead whenever she picked up a hatchet or a knife. Everyone was picking up weapons and shoving them through the handles of the door, to prevent it from being opened.

An enormous bellow echoed from the other side of the door, and the ground shook again.

"They have a cave troll." Boromir said, sarcastically.

Fali had shut down all her mental barriers of fear, and was acted on instinct that did not fail her. I shot up to my feet at the sound of the troll, and pulled out my sword, making to get behind Master Gandalf too.

"Not you." Boromir's voice stopped me. "Ready yourself."

"What?"

"Stand ready, Master Gideon." Aragorn said, perhaps a bit more calmly than Boromir had spoken.

"You too, Miss Fali." Boromir called to my sister.

Fali did not say a word but followed orders, unsheathing her blade in a fluid mothion at standing in a defensive stance, her eyes like steel. "Stand ready, Gideon." She tried to snap me out of the fear circling in my head. "Hurry!" She barked when I did not do so fast enough.

Gimli stood high upon Balin's tomb, daring the orcs to crash the door down and fight him. He looked a hundred times more ready to fight than I was.

The others hurried back from the doors, pulling our blades and bows. The door jolted with the force of the orcs behind it. I flinched. The door jolted a second and third time, and then a small part of the door splintered away as an orc's axe swung.

Legolas was not at all phased and fire an arrow through the narrow gap. There was a cry from beyond the door, and then the whole arrow disappeared, whoever had been struck by it falling back and dying.

Every time they pushed against the door wound my nerves tighter and tighter. I expected each blow to be the last before the hinges of the door gave in.

The door smashed open, splinters the size of daggers spewing forth with the wave of orcs that charged through the opened doorway.

I had seen rendering of orcs from the journals in the libraries of Erebor. The drawings did not do them justice, they were the very ugliest and most misshapen creatures I had ever laid eyes on. There skin was eerie shades of mottled browns and blues., more the color of a decomposing swamp than of flesh. There armor and weapons were as crude as Mother and Father had described, but just as menacing too.

And they were running straight to us.

Aragorn had a bow of his own and fired freely, felling enemies before they reached him. Legolas followed his actions. I felt as though the sword was a rather poor weapon, seeing as my challenger would have to be directly before me in order for me to strike or block his attack. I did not want to be in close proximity to any of them, and just having them approach the crypt where Balin lay had been too near for my own taste.

Just as everyone was rushing forward to engage the orcs and defend themselves, I was taking a step back. An orc with half a nose drew back his sword for the kill in front of me.

Death. It became the most frightening and real thing to me suddenly.

Survival. It became the only thing I wanted.

Fight.

I swung my blade, trying to put myself out of my head and into my body, the way Fali did as she fought. My blade connected with the tip of the orc's sword, which was curved to a wicked point. I flung both of the blades to the side, keeping a firm hold on mine. The sword was torn from his hands.I swung again, almost blindly. I felt the soft resistance of exposed flesh, and a stream of black ooze spilled over the creatures armor. It made a sound of pain and fell to it's knees, and I made my escape.

It did not end there, like the spars I had before did. There a dozen others waiting to take his place, and they were certainly not waiting for those in front of them to finish their attempt first.

"There's too many!" I called to Fali.

"Keep hold of your sword!" She called back. Her mind was elsewhere, focused on the danger in front of her. The first orc I had faced pulled a knife from its belt and tried to slice into her leg. Fali yelped and without hesitation plunged her sword into the orc's neck. "Make sure you kill them!" She added, hurrying to retain her defense.

Boromir had kept watch over Fail and seeing her brief attack on the orc that was bleeding out on the floor, which had left her side vunerable he charged over to her, and with a single blow beheaded on helmet-clad orc.

I paid the price for my distraction with my sister, as one orc struck his blade against mine , and threatened to slit my throat. I was pushed backward, stumbling in my footwork briefly as I had to step over a fallen body, until I was cornered against the wall.

I shoved back, but the orc did not go far, shoving right back against me. There was the sound of a rockslide as the doorway burst open again, and huge, bulky creature burst in, it's wrists in chains. A troll, and one easily capable of crushing us. How Aragorn went on fighting even after a brief look at the new danger I did not know.

The orc that had me against the wall was briefly distracted. That was the only advantage I had in fighting them, they were not very bright. I shoved again, and this time he tripped over the dead body of his companion on the floor, and I went for the throat as Fali had. Blood spurted horrifically, and my stomach jumped at the splattering of the black liquid.

There was a groan of pain, far more deep than the orcs, from the troll. He had suffered a few arrow wounds along various joints in his enormous body, some from Legolas's bow, some from Aragorn's.

Sam stood frozen before the troll, looking even smaller than a hobbit would normally.

The troll raised it's fist ready to 'squash us into jelly', if the story that my parents and Bilbo told was any indication. I cringed and stepped back toward the wall again. Fali dove across the middle of the room, with Frodo one arm, and practically tackled Sam, crashing into him, and pulling him along to the side of the room.

Her head whipped around, and then she saw me and made a motion that plainly read 'follow me, and _right now_ , Gideon'. Blindly I followed to their sheltered corner, scampering awkwardly through the middle of the room, nearly bumping into Balin's tomb, and coming too close to the troll. It's high held fist made to descend upon the ground, and my pace faltered as my heart stopped. But the fist did not come down any farther. Aragorn and Boromir were pulling on the chains to which the beast was bound, and it had fallen back enough for me to make my escape. Fali pushed me in front of her and up a narrow staircase to a thin mezzanine along the chamber walls, where statues must have once been placed.

I heard something crash into a recess of the far wall, and realized it had been Boromir, flung away by the angry troll. Before she had a chance to show Sam the staircase she was off to the side of him, slashing through the side of the orc. Boromir was dazed by his flight into the wall, but managed to stand again.

The noise went of it all went on as I stood numbly against the upper wall. Metal grinding against metal, the slick sound of cut flesh, the swish of the arrows through the air, the pound of the troll's steps on the floor. Something touched my shoulder, and I nearly jumped from the edge. My gaze shot to my side, and it was only Merry and Pippin, pushing Frodo past me and into a sheltered corner.

A chain whipped past me and tangled itself round a pillar. I had to blink when Legolas walked across it as though it was sturdy as a bridge and proceeded to fire arrows into the more tender flesh of the troll. The troll swayed and swatted, but he remained balanced, stepped across the shoulders with skill and a certain elegance that reminded me of my Aunt Tauriel. When the swatting hands became too much and all possible damaged had been inflected he jumped back to the floor as though the distance was nothing.

A thunder of crushed stone alerted my attention back to the floor. The troll (features a new axe wound in his shoulder) had struck his mace into the tomb of Balin, and the stone had broken. I grimaced at the disrespect.

The sound of swords and arrows, battle cries and snarls, and…a skillet? I peered below me again and saw Sam of all people belting at orcs with a frying pan, with a surprising degree of success.

The troll roared and Merry, Pippin and I jumped as his mace struck the wall, smashing in part of the mezzamine. I was not struck by the weapon, but fell through the gap as the whole wall quaked from the blow, landing roughly upon the crumbled stones, and losing hold of my blade.

It skidded away from me, clattering to a halt farther into the room. I felt as dazed as Boromir had, blinking back the fuzziness that filled my head. There was a low snarl, and my insides curled.

A man with no sword was a dead man.

I shook my head and saw a rather tall, greenish orc standing over me. His sword was pointing to my chest. I scrambled backward helplessly. He drew his sword back and my eyes scrunched shut.

The orc snarled again, and then there was a great yell, and the clash of two swords meeting in combat, and my eyes allowed themselves to snap back open. Aragorn stood before me, his blade locked with the orc. The two broke apart and tried to kill each other again, but their swords clashed again. Aragorn pushed him to the center of the room and I was free to get to my feet.

My blade lay abandoned on the floor, perilously close to Aragorn and the orc trying to slaughter us both. I was defenseless for those few vulnerable seconds before Aragorn swung true, and fatally stabbed the orc, which fell back with limbs splaying everyway. The ranger picked my sword up by the tip of his boot, flicking it up to his free hand, and then casting it to me. I was able to catch it in return.

As I finished off an orc that had been hit in the thigh with an arrow, there was something between a loud gasp and a groan of pain, echoed by a scream from Fali.

"Frodo!" I said at the same time as Sam did, and turned to find the hobbit backed into a corner, and Aragorn skidding across the floor like my blade had before.

Frodo, our bearer of the Ring, had been stuck through by the troll. It felt as though some part inside me had been cut away by a hammer and chisel. One of the company was dying, really and truly dying now.

Fali rushed to his side upon his cry. I hurried to the safety of the walls, inching toward the narrow staircase. Merry and Pippin had leapt brilliantly onto it's shoulders, burying knives to their hilts into the flesh. No doubt painful, but not fatal for a creature that size. Merry was flung to the ground, but Pippin managed to hold on and stab again, this time in the head of the troll.

Legolas stepped forward, seeing an opportunity. His arrows littered the hide of the troll right now and he notched another, taking aim for the open mouth of the beast. His aim did not fail, and the arrow lodged itself through the pallet, striking into the brain. The troll wavered, dangerously, swayed so hard that Pippin was shaken, and finally collapsed, dead. The fall of it was so heavy that Pippin practically somersaulted off the creature.

At last a hush fell over the room, our enemies dead. It was broken by a tiny sob from Fali. "Frodo…?"

We all rushed over, but the hobbit was breathing, and quite rapidly for someone who should have a decent sized hole in his center. I thought it might have been panic in his final moments, but his shirt bore no blood stains. "He's alive!" Sam exclaimed. Amazingly, he was.

"How?" Fali demanded, still pressing her hands to Frodo's stomach as if to keep imaginary blood inside.

"I'm all right, I'm not hurt." Frodo assured her, taking her hands away.

"You should be dead!" Aragorn was in awe. "That spear could have killed a wild boar."

"I think there's more to this hobbit than meets the eye." Gandalf spoke.

Frodo unbuttoned some of his shirt and revealed a glimmering chainmail underneath. "Mithril…" Gimli breathed, surprised to see so much of it. "You are full of surprises Master Baggins."

"Bilbo gave that to you, didn't he?" Fali asked.

"Yes." Frodo nodded.

She was smiling and glaring at the same time as she snapped "I could strangle you right now for not telling me!"

"Easy lass, he just lived through a troll." Gimli pulled her and Frodo up.

Drums and snarls rose in the distance again. Gandalf called for us to follow him to a bridge, the only safe passage out of Moria now. We ran, cloaks flying behind us. The hall about us changed instantly. It filled with the enemy to the hundreds, some racing down halls, some creeping along the pillars like a hoard of spiders, coming out of every crack in the ceiling and floor.

Being so outnumbered it was not long until we were surround by them. I held my sword out in front of me, and eyed the orc opposite me. This one had rather pointy teeth, as though each one had been sharpened that way.

There was the sound of something heavy approaching in the distance, something big. My mind considered it to be another troll and I cringed inside.

Then, surprisingly, the orcs cringed. More than cringed, they appeared to cower at the noise, and flew off, crawling back into the cracks from where they had come.

"What was that?" Fali asked me.

I began to inch backward. "I don't know, but if it scares them, it scares me."

The light of a fire was seen far off in the hall, rising and falling back to shadow. "A dragon?" Fali asked. Perhaps this was more like Erebor than we had thought.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir asked the wizard.

"A Balrog…a demon of the ancient world." Gandalf responded, grimness in his tone. "This foe is beyond any of you. Run!" He demanded.

We flew. The stone became rougher, less polished and more natural and I knew an exit was close at hand. Boromir suddenly stumbled, our path ending in a ledge, which he wavered on until Legolas pulled him back.

"Lead them on Aragorn, the bridge is near." Gandalf ordered.

The Balrog roared, and Aragorn took on the duty of guiding us. Fali and I glanced to Gandalf with confusion in our eyes, but he waved us on ahead, following. "Swords are of no more use here."

The stairs under our feet were steep, and like any proper mountain staircase there was nothing holding you back from slipping over the edge and into the darkness below. Fali and I ran along either side of the stairs, closer to edge to keep the inexperienced hobbits from falling over.

It all came to a halt when we reached another ledge, this time where a staircase had broken, leaving a menacing gap in our way. Fali and I stared at the leap. Legolas leapt across, having little trouble. Gandalf followed, a little less flawless in his jump, but making it safely across. It then occurred to me that Fali and I, being at the front, were next. "Come on Gideon." She took hold of my sleeve, and climbed up a few more steps. "We'll take it at a run."

Forcing myself to imagine it was only a gap between one riverbank and the other was futile, if Fali had not had me by the sleeve, I would have had to be thrown across the gap. We leapt and landing, a bit shaken on the other side, as arrows began to hit the stone steps. Were there no end of enemies here?

Boromir grabbed Merry and Pippin under his arms and leapt. Gimli refused gruffly to be tossed across, and very nearly made it himself. Legolas had to reach out for him, and caught him by the beard, a rather unpleasant experience. Sam was thrown, and Frodo and Aragorn were about to jump when the worst happened. The stairs crumbled, the gap widening as our friends were forced back. They stood with wide eyes as the whole foundation cracked, and swayed to and fro alarmingly. With bated breath we watched and waited as they leaned about, trying to control the movements. The structure fell forward, and there was a crash that shook the whole stairs and the two fragments collided.

Aragorn and Frodo ran onto the secure segment as the broken half fell away, shattering into a million pieces. The bridge was before us now, and we hurried, as a heat rose in the air, and fire lit the walls, and the foundations shook again. For once I was ahead of Fali, fueled by the distant softer light, the way out, the end to this nightmare.

"Over the bridge! Fly!" Gandalf shouted. He stood in the center and faced the growing flames.

Once across I dared to look back.

The walls broke, and I looked up the face of all horrors. Black as soot, and filled with fire, nothing but a giant body, wings and horns. It was only fire and death, materialized into a a demon.

"You cannot pass!" And I was frawn back to the image of the wizard, standing there in grey, looking so small before the demon.

"Gandalf!" Frodo called for his friend.

I had only ever seen the wizard produce light from his staff and the creation of his fireworks. "I am the servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the Flame of Anor…" This was no torch bearer now. "The dark fire will not avail you!" This was no common peddler now. "Flame of Udûn!" The Balrog tried to strike him but Gandalf's power deflected the blow and shattered it's sword. "Go back to the Shadow!"

This was a brave man, powerful beyond words, older than I knew and with more courage than all the kingdoms.

The Balrog produced a whip made of flame, which snapped in the air, the very sound of bones breaking.

"You shall not pass!" Gandalf bellowed, and slammed his staff into the bridge. The stone cracked, and we watched as the demon wavered and flailed like the flickering of a flame itself, and fell.

Gandalf held himself up upon his staff, exhausted. He faced us, and there was a relief among us.

He took one step toward safety…

There was the snap of crushed bone again, and the flicker of a line of fire, as he was pulled back to the edge, and dragged over it, cling on to the stone, the only piece of him to be seen his face.

I did not even have air in my lungs to gasp. Fali shuddered like she had been shot through.

"Gandalf!"

"No!"

He looked away from the drop to us. "Fly, you fools." It sounded like a whisper to us, the words not shouted over the distance.

Then he was gone.

 **Next time: elves!**


	16. Chapter 15 (Lothlorien)

_"_ _And then Master Gandalf slammed his staff against the rocks, and they split in two. The sunlight came through the cracks and the trolls cried out in dismay, as they writhed and were turned to stone."_

 _"_ _And you weren't eaten by trolls after all." Fali smiled, sprawled out on the hearth rug in her nightgown next to her brothers._

 _"_ _Not a single bite was eaten by them." Mother grinned._

 _"_ _Master Gandalf was very brave."_

 _"_ _Aye, Fali. He is very brave."_

 _"_ _And it was good of him to come back, even when he was cross with great-Uncle Thorin."_

 _"_ _Yes, Gideon. The grey wizard was one of the kindest and wisest of men."_

 _"_ _He's very lucky to have magic. It must be easy to be brave when you have magic."_

 _"_ _Perhaps, darling." And she gently tousled the black strands of hair._

/

I had heard so many stories of him in my younger years, and he had drifted in between the tales, always coming and going, and always safe. He was the one who pushed the dangers away. Trolls turned to stone in his wake, he cast back the goblins in Goblintown. Nothing could ever hurt him…

Not until now…

Now he was gone, slipped over the edge of a broken bridge and his robes fluttered like old grey leaves in autumn wind and he was gone, consumed by the darkness of the caverns below.

The grey wizard was no more.

Fali's cry of shock and despair was loud enough to make my ears go numb. Neither one of us had ever witnessed someone dying before. Aragorn had to push her away, urging her out of the caverns as the arrows returned. "Hurry, Master Gideon." He nudged at me as well, and though I felt as if everything inside me had been drained, both from tragedy and exhaustion, I ran out of the mines, and into the bright, chilled light outside the mountain walls. When I at last registered in my mind the grass beneath my feet, I crumpled next to Fali, and held onto her like she was a rock, feeling so hollow I thought I may float away.

Fali was crying, again, the second time in what was likely only an hour or so. Maybe even less. I had lost track of all time in the mines, without the sun to guide me. Her sobs were muffled by my sleeve, but I knew her crying was fierce from how quickly my arm felt wet from her tears.

No one was spared the grief of watching Gandalf drop to his death. Sam had his head bowed into his hands and wept quietly. Gimli was more vocal, venting rage and frustration.

Aragorn sheathed his sword, and turned to us, looking grim. "Legolas, get them up." Out of all of us, it was the elf who was the most capable at that moment.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" Boromir shot back.

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with Orcs! We must reach the woods of Lothlorien. Come, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, get them up." The ranger then went over to Sam, and stood him to his feet, gently but firmly.

Fali took one great breath, and in doing so stopped shaking against me. She looked up, wiped the trails left by her tears from her face, and stood. For a second her mouth twitched, as though she may let out a small sob again, but she noticeably bit down on her tongue to stop it. Her mind was shutting itself down, much like it did when she fought. Now there was only a very basic, and instinctual Fali before me. She'd shut her feeling out in order to stand back up, the seriousness of our situation still hanging above our heads. "Get up, Gideon." She said, and offered me her hand.

"I don't know if I can." I said. My head was swimming with thoughts of our companion slipping away forever, and still pounding with adrenaline, lighting up every sense and stopping my body from sorting it all out. I could not shut myself out of my head no matter how hard I tried, my body was not something I could move about like a puppet on strings. I remained stuck in my thoughts and on the ground.

"You can." Fali nodded. "And you will." She took my hand. "You must." She added, more quietly, and pulled me up. "Keep on those feet now." She said, and then deserted me, standing there like a statue, as still and as mute. She went immediately to Frodo, and pulled him back towards us, giving him a comforting embrace. "We will grieve for him later." She promised. "But now, we still need to seek shelter. Keep strong, Frodo. Soon we'll have our time to grieve, I promise you."

I felt as though Frodo was more her brother in that moment than I.

Not that I could have her comforting me in such a maternal nature before them now.

A fine image I'd made of myself in Moria, wanting to hide behind the wizard with the hobbits, hiding up in the mezzanine and then dropping my sword.

"Master Gideon?" I looked over my shoulder to Aragorn. "Are you all right?" He asked me.

"I am not hurt." I replied.

"Are you all right?" He repeated, a little more seriously.

I hung my head. "As well as everyone else is." I replied honestly.

He nodded down to me. "Miss Fali?" He asked of my sister.

"I'll be better when we are safe again, and have the time to rest." Fali nodded back at him. "Lead the way, Aragorn…and hurry."

Our few supplies we had escaped with were quickly gathered, and with heads hung and hearts broken we ran off down through the foothills. When the ground leveled itself off, there was the tiniest of reliefs that were a safe enough distance from Moria again, and the orcs would not dare to go so far from their safe haven. The forest Aragorn had spoken of stood before us, and we were walking carefully long the intricate trails among the tall trees.

"Stay close, young Hobbits!" I noticed Gimli looked particularily on edge, gripping his axe more tightly, eyes shifting back and forth. "They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods, an elf-witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell…"

The Lady of Lothlorien, yes, I had read of her…a curious woman, and while there was rumor of powerful magic I trusted she would find little reason to bewitch me, or any of us. The adrenaline had left my brain and I was now too tired and slow to be worried, especially with the forest cocooning us so. I walked on, my stare a blind one.

The hobbits however, were now alert and enrapt with Gimli's words. Frodo looked about nervously, as if hearing voices beyond the trees.

"…and are never seen again." Gimli finished in a whisper.

"Frodo, what's wrong?" Fali asked, as she bumped into the hobbit, who continued to look around as though he expected something to be out there in the woods.

"Mister Frodo?" Sam was suddenly checking him over too.

Frodo gave no answer. Fali turned to Sam, saying "Don't worry. He's likely tired, like the rest of us. The sooner we find a place to camp, the better. Then we can all settle our minds down. Who wouldn't think there would be something out here after what we just went through?"

"I suppose you're right, Miss Fali."

"Just Fali, please, Sam." She reminded him again, though her heart was not so much in it this time.

"Well," I heard Gimli again, his voicing rising in determination. "…here is one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox."

I was about to bring up, from deep within my slowed mind, that the fox was considered a symbol of wit in my mother's culture, when I felt something sharp against my ribs. I looked down, expecting a stray thorn, but I met a pair of dark eyes, that appeared even darker against pale flesh. Instantly I jumped back from the pale face, when I felt a similar jab at my shoulder blade. I was forced to meet the face dead on, and beheld the silver hair and pointed ears of an elf, with an arrow aimed at me.

There were at least a dozen of them, all with arrows trained at us. We stood frozen before them, not daring to move, or else they would let their arrows fly. How they had appeared so suddenly and quietly was beyond my understanding.

One stepped forward, in armour of grander make than the others. "The dwarf breathes so loudly we could have shot him in the dark." He said, amusedly. Gimli was not amused at all, and practically growled in response.

The elf looked over us, and his eyes fell upon Aragorn and Legolas. He greeted them, in elvish. Legolas lowered his bow and replied in the same language, calling him by the name of Haldir. Aragorn bowed his head respectfully. "We ask for safe passage through your domain." Aragorn said, thankfully in the common tongue, for I was not used to the gracefully lilting accent of the elves. Gandalf had been far easier to understand…

Aragorn, Legolas, and even Gimli were invited aside, but the conversation continued in elvish, much to the dwarf's distaste. It was obvious that the dislike between dwarves and elves was still present in this realm. Haldir proclaimed in the common tongue himself that they had not had dealings with dwarves since the dark times.

Wonderful…more people who did like not us. Orcs and trolls just weren't enough, now even decent folk like the elves of this forest had to hold some disdain for us.

Of course, Gimli threatening to spit upon the grave of Haldir in khuzdul wasn't giving us a glowing impression. I rolled my eyes at his words, my face buried in my palms, as Aragorn pointed out that it had not been a polite thing to say.

Aragorn had taken up the position of Gandalf as our new leader. He tried to present us all as respectful, and when Haldir refused to let us pass with the ring in our possession, Aragorn went further aside with him to argue in our favor.

"You'd think they'd let us through." Fali sighed.

"Erebor and Mirkwood may be on more peaceful terms than others of our kinds." I reminded her. "Be thankful Aragorn has the decency to argue on our behaves. We'd be shot straight through if we relied on Gimli right now."

"You're right…" She said, her fingers hovering close to the hilt of her blade, eyeing the elves around us with bows strapped to their backs. "Say, you don't think the reason Legolas has hardly spoken with us is because he still bears that old grudge?" She whispered.

"That would be foolish of him." I replied, also quiet. "He's tolerates us well enough." Truth be told, Legolas and Gimli still were on unsteady circumstances with each other. But nothing that I would call hatred. "Maybe it's your multitude of questions."

"Maybe it's because…you know…" And she tried to signal something to me, incomprehensibly.

"What?"

"Our family…" She hinted.

"What about our family?" I asked. Something fell into place in my head "Oh. You mean how Tauriel chose Uncle Kili instead of going back to Mirkwood?"

The statement had been a whisper, but suddenly Legolas turned his eyes harshly over me. It sent a chilly feeling of being caught out through my spine and I swallowed a forming lump in my throat.

I had neglected to remember the remarkable hearing of elves.

Fortunately, Aragorn returned with Haldir at that moment, and announced we were to camp tonight in the realm of Lady Galadriel. I quickly gathered my things and followed directly behind Aragorn, not looking up from the path, feeling stupid.

At one point I noticed the ground give way to bridges and walkways, that glowed beneath the moonlight. I glanced up once, and saw the arches, and swirling trails up the trees. Fali's eyes were darting from place to place, suddenly alive with curiosity and wonder, soaking in every detail. This place was the embodiment of what she expected from adventures, and now she lived in her moment, thrilled by the beauty of this city in the treetops.

We were lead to a sort of courtyard, and from a staircase descended two incredibly beautiful individuals, a lord and a lady, both of them elves. One would have thought they were glowing as well, given their beauty, and the way their garments reflected the light.

It was the lady, Galadriel, who glanced over all of us, but the lord, Celeborn, who spoke. "The enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone."

My mouth twitched into a small grimace, but with the lady looking over us, I quickly dropped it.

"Ten there are here, yet eleven there were, set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him… I can no longer see him from afar."

The grimace returned, and refused to be dropped this time. Fali glanced sadly up to the lady.

"Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land. He has fallen into shadow." Galadriel said softly. A nod from Aragorn confirmed her thoughts.

"He was taken by both shadow and flame, a Balrog of Morgoth, for we went needlessly into the net of Moria." Legolas explained. We all hung our heads, now that we had the chance to finally think of our loss, without the distraction of finding a safe camp.

"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not yet know his whole purpose." The lady Galadriel said, comfortingly. Her voice had a calm nature to it, and her statement soothed many a frayed nerve. "Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dum fill your heart, Gimli, son of Gloin." Gimli looked up in surprise as she looked over him. "For the world has grown full of peril., and in all lands, love is now mingled with grief."

Her gaze swept over us, and Borormir flinched and tried to look away from her gaze. I raised an eyebrow at his actions when suddenly I heard a voice within my…and certainly not my own.

 _You have much doubt, Gideon, son of Fili._

I flinched again, my eyes growing in size and meeting the lady Galadriel's in shock.

 _Your doubt weakens you._

I blinked at her. I am afraid, I thought.

 _Why? What do you fear?_

There is much against us, I thought. I do not know what will happen to us.

 _You must not fear what you do not know. We cannot know tomorrow. A man who rises afraid, falls afraid._

Then her voice vanished and it was Fali's turn for her eyes to grow wide, and stare.

"What now becomes of this Fellowship? Without Gandalf, hope is lost." Celeborn reminded us.

"The quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail to the ruin of all." Galadriel spoke aloud again, warning us of the seriousness we faced.

"Yet hope remains while the company is true." She spoke gently again. "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight you will sleep in peace."

I was calmed once more by her voice. An attendant called for us to follow him back to the ground. Weary again at the promise of a safe, long night of sleep I turned and followed. I glanced back once, to meet the watchful eyes of Galadriel. The memory of her voice in my head rose again, staying long after we had disappeared down the stairs and I had lost sight of her.

/

"Gideon?" Fali asked, and tapped at my shoulder repeatedly.

"What?" The word was partially slurred, and I blinked back the heavy feeling of fatigue. "Did I fall asleep?" I asked. In the background the softly sung lament for Gandalf was still ringing through the air, and it threatened to make me dose off again.

"Aye." Fali replied. "You practically collapsed under a tent, and fell asleep before you hit the ground. Never seen you looking so tired before in my life."

"Why did you wake me?" Already a thousand memories of orcs and Wraiths and Gandalf dropping from the bridge were springing to the surface of my mind.

"I can't find Frodo."

"He's likely sleeping…"

"He's not in the tent with Sam."

"He may have moved…" I yawned, and tried to turn over and sleep again, but she swatted my shoulder, more harshly.

"Help me find him. Who knows where he wandered off to?"

"He's not a child, let him wander back…"

"What if he's wearing the Ring?"

I sat up, that worry invading my head and banishing rest for the time being. "He wouldn't." I protested. "He knows it is wrong Fali."

"We are all a little…shaken….after Moria and Gandalf." Fali said. She frowned at having to mention it, and for a moment there was silence. "Help me search for him, please."

I rose. "Very well." I agreed, heading off in one direction.

Our camp was nestled snugly among the roots of the forest, our bedrolls cushioned by soft moss, the air warm and quiet. A peaceful place, and a blissful respite after the darkness of Moria. I found comfort in its tranquility and hoped that was all Frodo was doing, searching for some private glen to rest and grieve. The Ring no doubt called out, offering comfort of its own to him.

I passed gardens, trails and courtyards, following the slowly swirling paths. "Frodo…?" I called out for the hobbit. "Frodo?"

Some sharp light caught my eye and I looked down into an empty courtyard, ringed by statues and ivy growth, and in the center something like a looking glass. I peered curiously at the lone mirror. There was something rather odd about having the mirror out in the middle of nowhere. I had read of large pools used to observe the stars and celestial planets, but this was so small.

I took a step closer, and soon found myself standing directly before the little dish of water. There was nothing odd about it in appearance. The water was the same, clear sort that poured from the fountains. The dish was beautiful, but as was everything in this realm. There was simply an aura about the artifact that beckoned you closer and invited you to look into its waters.

 _Gideon…_

I glanced around me, surprised, before realizing the voice was in my head again.

 _Gideon…_

I gazed into the pool, and the water stirred, as if shifted by a wind. It shimmered and the pale reflection of the moon exploded with colors that cleared themselves to images. I lowered myself closer and my mind was absorbed by the water.

 _"_ _Gideon, get up." I was only a lad, young and pushed into the sand by my friend. My sword had fallen directly beside me._

 _"_ _You're not hurt, are you?" Vesper asked._

 _I shook my young head. Vesper lowered her hand to help me get up. I remained in the sand, world still spinning from how she had managed to make me trip over my own feet. "Gideon?" She raised an eyebrow at me._

 _"_ _I'm not very good, am I?" The words mumbled themselves from my mouth._

 _"_ _We fought for a full five minutes." Vesper said. "Five minutes is a decent spar."_

 _"_ _Vesper, I'm in the sand." I reminded her, feeling said sand spill into my tunic, as it usually did. "I lost."_

 _"_ _So?"_

 _"_ _I lost again." I added._

 _Vesper shrugged. "Someone has to lose." She replied. "Otherwise no one will ever win." Fine logic on her behalf, especially since she was younger than I was. The frankness of her tone was a bit cold to me though._

 _There was the hushed snicker of other lads, who had just witnessed me getting beat by a girl. Vesper shot them a glare that rivaled Fali's. "Oi!" She waved her training sword menacingly at them. That was Vesper…one moment she pushed me down, and the next she came to my aid._

 _Needless to say, she did look rather menacing herself at that moment, and the laughter died down. "Honestly…" She grumbled to herself. She plopped down, none to gracefully, into the sand beside me._

 _There was a small frown on her face. "You need to learn to move your feet." She told me. "You sort of freeze up a lot."_

 _I nodded, humming in agreement._

 _"_ _Shall we practise again?" She was already leaps and bounds better than me, having started training since she could practically stand._

 _"_ _In a moment." I quietly agreed._

 _"_ _Does sand always spill down the back of your shirt?"_

 _I snickered, and got up, spraying her with loose sand in the process. Vesper coughed back the dust and particles, and got up, grinning and glaring._

 _She prepared to spar, and I prepared to lose._

I pulled back from the water, the memory now fading. It was a miracle I had improved from being so hopeless to managing to escape a mine. Feeling as though I had been doing something I was not allowed to do, I stepped back from the mirror and back to the path. Fali came running back to me, with Frodo.

"He's fine." Fali smiled. "He just likes to wander off without telling us." And she gave Frodo a small smack upside the head.

"Hey!" Frodo nursed the inflicted wound.

"Where did you go off to?" Fali asked.

"Just…just down the path." I dismissed what had happened. I was not able to explain the enchantment of the mirror, nor did I think Fali would believe me.

That and if she did believe me she would likely go racing over and stick her whole face into the water, hoping to see something.

"Let's go back to the camp." Frodo spoke up. "Tomorrow our journey continues."

We walked back quietly, Fali leading the way and peering all around her, still in wonder.

"Did you look into the mirror?" Frodo asked suddenly, in a whisper.

I was shocked for a moment. "Yes." I answered. "Did you? What did you see?"

"The future." Frodo replied, his voice tired. "A future, more accurately."

"I saw the past. A memory of mine." I looked at him seriously. "What did the future look like?"

Frodo looked at me, concerned. "Not good."

I grimaced. "The past did not look so well either." I said, trying to comfort him. I wasn't as good at it as Fali was.

Whatever the past or future held, we still had to continue the journey tomorrow.


	17. Chapter 16 (We must go on)

The morning was chilly, though not wholly uncomfortable, along the roots of our camp. I had risen early and found the grass covered in dew and the sunlight shining weakly in through the thick canopy. Gimli was snoring on like he was trying to make an earthquake on his own. How Legolas had not woken up and delivered a swift nudge to the slumbering dwarf was both a mystery and a miracle.

Gideon slept on beside me, snuggled up under his cloak. I noticed it had torn from our time in Moria.

I stood, and went about the process of preparing for the day, daring to sprint off to a bathing pool, and dunking myself into it for a few minutes. It was absolutely freezing, but I knew a proper bath would not be in the near future. Needless to say, I did not drag the bath out, and dressed again in a hurry, for the sake of both modesty and warmth.

Being chilled was helpful, in it's own way. It set my body on alert to what was going on around it, and slowed my mind down, to the point where my thoughts could not get the best of me. I needed it, to help myself from thinking of Gandalf.

I would never tell Gideon or Aragorn or any of them, but I had nightmares throughout the night of him falling. It was one of these that had woken me and then I had realised Frodo had gone off on his own.

No, I was the brave one, and I would continue to put on a brave face to make the others think it. It wouldn't help to show how grief affected me, what with things becoming more tense and more dire recently.

When I returned, the others were packing away everything into their bags. "Fali." Aragorn came and handed me my belt, with my sword and dagger attached.

"Thank you Aragorn." I said, my teeth chattering a little as the weak sun did little to warm me up again. Frodo grabbed my cloak and brought it to me.

"Here." He put it around my shoulders for me, as my arms were so stiffly crossed around my body.

"Thank you Frodo." I said, grabbing the edges and enveloping myself.

"You'll soon have a new cloak." Frodo said. "The elves are to resupply us."

"Good." I nodded. Mine had holes in it now, and our travels were only in their beginning.

"Pack your things." Aragorn said. "We depart from Lothlorien soon." He nodded over me. "Hurry to warm yourself, we will travel by river, and it will be cooler."

"Of course." I nodded, and went to my tent and began throwing things into my bag. I put another pair of stockings over my frozen toes. The Fellowship was soon ready to depart any moment, and I scanned over Merry and Pippin, who I figured were most liable to forget something, and nodded over to Gideon.

My brother had done well, coming this far. He probably felt as though I had dragged him across the rocky side of a mountain, but he had complained little, hunted well, and made it out of Moria alive. I could not ask for more from Gideon.

Boromir stood at the edge of our camp, staring off ahead of himself, and I quickly touched his shoulder. The man jumped at my presence, and one of his hands shot up to swat my arm away quickly.

"Fali…" He sighed when he saw it was only me.

"I'm sorry." I frowned a little. "I did not mean to startle you so badly."

"Are we leaving?" He asked, seeing everyone with their belongings.

"Yes, very soon." I replied.

"Good." Boromir nodded. He did not appear to like Lothlorien very much.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, out of instinct, for I had formed a habit over the years with the hobbits, and especially over this quest.

"Nothing." Boromir shook his head. "It is nothing." He nudged past me, and joined the others.

"What got into him?" Gideon asked, as we all began to walk down to the riverside.

"I don't know." I shook my head. "Something about this place must make him feel uneasy."

"Well, the elves did point arrows at our heads and threatened to shoot." Gideon suggested.

"That wouldn't phase him." I shook my head. "Though I imagine Lady Galadriel's mind tricks had something to do with it." I glanced at my feet. "The mind is a greater source of weakness than the body is."

I quickly hushed myself as we rounded the bend in the road and approached the river, a group of elves awaiting us. Lord Celeborn was with them, and as Frodo had said, he and his attendants had cloaks for us, as well as other supplies.

"Food!" Merry and Pippin gushed over the new rations.

"Don't tell you two plan to start eating it already…" I groaned at them." We haven't even set foot in the boats yet."

"Oh c'mon Fali, just a bite." Pippin pleaded.

"If I catch you Pippin…" I said, warningly. This made the hobbit freeze, and I trusted the rations were safe.

An elf put a new cloak over my shoulders. It was warm, but not heavy like I had anticipated. He fastened the garment with a clasp green and shaped like a leaf, with even fine lines of silver to look like the veins . We were lucky to receive such warm and sturdy cloaks, Lord Celeborn saying that they had never before clad others in their own garments. From across the water, the Lady Galadriel approached on a boat made in the likeness of a swan, as the elves hurried to place our supplies into the provided boats. Merry and Pippin lingered round the food and every so often I had to give them a warning glance.

Gimli could not keep his eyes away from the Lady Galadriel. She was very beautiful, but I had not expected him to be mesmerized by the lady whom he had referred to as an 'elf-witch'. But mesmerized he was, and he took every opportunity to glance at her, for we would not see anything half so beautiful for a long, long, while.

"Lembas." Legolas said, capturing my attention, as he showed a piece of bread to Merry and Pippin. "Elvish way-bread. A single bite can fill the stomach of a grown man."

"Really?" I had never heard of such a fanciful idea.

Legolas nodded.

"You're saying that wafer could feed all of us?" I asked in disbelief. "Could feed _those two_?" I waved my hand in the direction of Merry and Pippin.

"Try it yourself." Legolas tore a corner of the bread and tossed it lightly to me. I caught it in my fingers. It looked like normal bread…maybe even lighter than normal bread. I sniffed it delicately, and it had no smell, just that of a dried cracker. Gingerly, I popped the bite into my mouth and swallowed.

Either my stomach shrank to the size of a pea or what was in it before swelled to it's capacity. Somehow the small bite filled me. Legolas was smirking at me and my discovery. "Incredible." I replied. "How?" I demanded.

"It's recipe is secret to my people."

"Fine." I shrugged, not glaring at him as much since we had escaped Moria. Now that I was under open sky again, I did not side so much with Gimli in his opinions of Legolas. "Let you elves have everything that's interesting."

Really though, from the grin forming on my face, one could tell I was clearly amazed at the feat. It really was unfair that almost everything of the finest quality was elvish.

"How many did you eat?" I heard Merry ask of Pippin.

"Four." He said, and belched to prove it.

"Four?!" I was too shocked to be angry with him for eating already. "How have you not _exploded,_ Pippin?"

"I did feel full, but I…" He sighed, grabbing at his extremely full stomach. "…thought it a trick of the mind. I didn't know it was special." He looked over to Merry. "I guess you were right to quit after a bite."

I heaved a great, tired breath, preparing myself to deal with Pippin and his indigestion, and possible motion-sickness when we started boating.

The swan boat bearing Lady Galadriel came ashore, and she climbed down toward us, seeming to float. "I come bearing gifts for the Fellowship, for the journey ahead."

She bestowed upon each of us a treasure, or a wisdom. Legolas received a bow (strung with elf-hair of all things). Pippin and Merry had daggers given to them. I wondered if Sam would be given one as well, but Galadriel gifted him with elvish rope, much better suited to his nature.

Aragorn and Boromir had simple gifts. Galadriel said that she had nothing finer to give Aragorn, as he already had the love of Arwen. For the first time I noticed through an opening in his shirt a white and silver pendent, clearly elvish, and clearly a sweet token of love from Arwen. I smiled to see it shining around his neck.

Boromir was not given a weapon, but a belt of fine leather, and a great golden buckle. A princely gift indeed, and he thanked the lady for it politely.

Gideon and I were standing beside Boromir and so were approached next. I did not know what she would give us. We already had enough weapons like Boromir had. Even if she had something to give of finer quality, I felt I wouldn't give up my own blade, with the symbols of the bear my father had etched into it.

"Young Prince and Princess of Erebor…" She nodded with respect, and both Gideon and I bowed our heads even lower. "You may have grown up in a dwarf kingdom, but I have also heard of your nymphian mother." I smiled, recalling the traveling dress Galadriel had left for my mother. The two had never seen each other, but had known of each other all these years. "These will bear meaning to you both." She held out two small pendants on black cord. Both were of pure silver. One of a bear, my emblem, and the other of an otter, Gideon's.

The nymphian symbols for strength and good fortune.

I reached out for my gift, and with a small nod and smile from Galadriel, took it from her hand. It was lovely, with a single green stone clutched within its intricately carved claws. Gideon's otter had a similar stone clasped to its chest.

"Thank you, milady." Gideon bowed his head again, and then tying the cord around his neck.

"Yes, thank you." I ceased my admiration, remembering I also had manners to uphold. Gideon smirked a little at the way I rushed out my gratitude, but took the pendent and tied it round my neck for me anyway.

I loved my gift, but Frodo's seemed to eclipse all of ours. Given to him within a decorative glass vial was a single, pure, glowing star. Earendil…the most beloved.

"May it be a light for you in a dark place, when all other lights go out." Galadriel wished him well, and lowered herself enough to kiss his forehead. Gimli looked almost jealous of such treatment.

"And what gift would a dwarf ask of among elves?" Galadriel smiled down on Gimli, and I almost snickered at how he looked under such a smile.

"Nothing." He grunted shortly in reply, to which the Fellowship began to disperse, stepping aboard the boats. As we left he had a change come over him, and from his mouth the loveliest compliment fell. "Except to look upon the Lady of the Galadhrim one last time, for she is more fair than all the jewels beneath the earth."

A very fine speech, and not entirely different from the sweet words my Uncle Kili bestowed upon Aunt Tauriel.

"Actually…" He stared at his feet. "There is one thing…" And then he mumbled on about how it was stupid to ask.

It would not be until about a half hour later as we left the borders of the lord and lady's realm that he revealed the truth. "I have taken my worst wound at this parting, having looked my last upon that which is fairest. Henceforth I will call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me."

"What was it?" Legolas was curious.

"I asked her for one hair from her golden head. She gave me three."

"How very kind of her." I smiled, patting Gimli's shoulder from my own boat.

"Fali?" Pippin groaned.

"Yes?"

"I think I'm going to be sick." The lembas-stuffed hobbit mumbled.

/

Pippin, true to my predictions, became very ill indeed, and showed us all the horrific result of eating too much lembas. The fact that we were in a boat, on a swiftly flowing river, did not help his state at all. Merry and I soon had our hands full as he turned a shade of green and proceeded to be ill as Frerin had once been after his first night of drinking. The quantity which he ate kept him full (and thankfully nourished) for three days.

"I thought elvish foods could not make you sick?" I looked across to Legolas, as Pippin sat in the bottom of the boat, his head resting back on my knees.

"No one has ever tried to eat four entire pieces." Legolas replied. "I think we can see why."

Frodo looked small and concerned beside Sam. "Frodo? Are you unwell too? Perhaps the motion of the river?"

"Don't mention the river." Pippin breathed, nearly gagging again at the thought of movement.

"No." His hand flinched away from the buttons of his tunic, and I knew he had been toying with the Ring.

"You're not eating and sleeping as you should be." I told him firmly, revoicing earlier concerns of Sam's. "Try to get some rest while we are on the river. Sam," I looked to hobbit in question. "Make sure Frodo eats something."

"Of course, Miss Fali."

"Just Fali…" I sighed, quietly.

"Princess Fali." Boromir smirked at me, teasingly, seeing how I did not like my title in these circumstances.

I snapped my hand across the water and splashed him for his comment. Boromir retaliated with a splash of his own from the oar he held. Despite how stony-faced he could get at times I really did like his company.

The river had broadened considerably, and now we began to enter more mountainous territory. To the left and right of us were thick forests, that stretched out in either direction for miles. In front of us, there was an approaching cliff, far off but noticeably tall. As we drew closer the two pillars I had thought to be natural marvels of erosion grew more detailed, and I finally noticed the shadow of a giant face.

"They are statues?" I asked.

"They are." Aragorn replied. He was smiling at the figures.

"I've never seen any so tall before." I was in awe. That was saying something, having grown up in a mountain that contained quite a few stone marvels of notable size and grandness. But never had I imagined that someone would take all the years…nay, the _generations_ …to carve human likeness out of the side of a cliff. Much like Moria and Lothlorien, it was breathtaking.

I turned to Gideon. "Are they not incredible?"

"Amazing." He was in so much wonder, he was smiling. "They are of great kings of the past, yes?" He asked Aragorn.

He nodded. "Look, Frodo." He tapped the hobbit on the shoulder. "The Argonath. Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old…my kin."

They looked like proud and noble kin indeed. Frodo and Sam were as entranced as Gideon and I.

For moment my brother and I were simply absorbed in the size of the stone kings. But as we drew close enough we began to see the details of their faces and beards, their grand hemlmets, and smooth robes, their incredible extended hands, build correctly so the weight of the stone arm would never send it crashing into the river.

We passed between them, and our heads swiveled, capturing details. Sharp noses, firm eyes, broad shoulders. "Mahal they even carved out feet." I admired the painstaking detail of their sandaled toes.

I watched as we continued down the river, staring at the back of their heads for miles, until distance blurred them too much and they were only strange stone pillars again. Frodo and Sam were also watching with me.

"But you never saw anything like that in the Shire." I grinned at them.

"No, Miss Fali." Sam shook his head. "Strange new territory this all is to us."

"It rivals even Uncle Bilbo's tales." Frodo smiled. I was glad he seemed to have found good spirits again.

After a few more miles, Pippin had recovered and we had traveled a good distance in the day. With the sun beginning to wane, and a plentiful forest full of game ahead of us, we made for the shore, just before a great waterfall.

"We cross the lake at nightfall. Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north." Aragorn directed as we hurried onto the land.

Mordor…it was months away yet, but at the sound of it's name it sounded much closer.

"Oh, yes? It's just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil? An impassable labyrinth of razor sharp rocks…and after that, it gets even better!" Gimli groused, his gruffer manner restored now after being confined to a boat most of the last few days.

Pippin and Merry looked up alarmed at the thought of things getting 'better'. Frodo glanced at Gimli, nervously. Gideon was stiff.

"Festering, stinking marshlands, far as the eye can see!" Gimli went on.

"That is our road." Aragron stated. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf."

"R-recover my…?!" Gimli sputtered.

"Shhh…rest yourself Gimli. That is all that was intended." I tried to calm him. "If a swamp is all we have to trouble that leg of the journey, I shall gladly take it over orcs and trolls."

"Gideon?" I glanced over to him, and tossed him a length of rope. "There is time before nightfall yet. This is a good and plentiful forest. See if you can trap something."

"We should leave now." Legolas said, in a more hushed tone, to Aragorn. I stepped more quietly over the leaves to hear the conversation.

"No. Orcs patrol the eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness." Aragorn insisted.

"It is not the eastern shore that worries me. A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near… I can feel it."

"Wait, Gideon…" I called for my brother, as my concern grew. "You should not go off alone."

"Where's Frodo?" Merry asked suddenly, and both Sam and I jolted at his words, Sam snapping out of a light sleep.

A quick glance and I saw he had left our camp. "Frodo…" I sighed, picking up the hem of my dress and running off to go find him.

"Wait, were you not going to come hunting with me?" Gideon asked.

"Take someone else with you if you feel unsafe." I said, in a rush. "I'm going to seek out Frodo."

As I left, Gideon looked apprehensively at Legolas, the other keen hunter of our Fellowship, but decided against it and went off into the trees on his own.

"Frodo!" I called through the trees, seeking out hidden glens and groves where I thought he might be dwelling. "Frodo, where are you?"

I searched high and low, following every rustle of leaves, but did not find him.

"Frodo?" I was beginning to grow frustrated with him, for he had been seeking out isolation more and more, the Ring weighing heavy on his mind.

I finally heard something, almost like a whimper.

"Frodo?" I turned and raced to the source of the noise. I found a clearing but it did not contain Frodo. In the center of the clearing Boromir was on his knees.

He hardly seemed like the Boromir of the last few weeks. He seemed small, and frightened, and sorry.

I took a careful step forward. "Boromir?" I asked quietly.

He immediately turned around his eyes like a scared animals, and looking startled and saddened. "Fali?" He asked, his breath was choked, as though he had been almost crying minutes ago. I was unsure of what to do. He seemed to have broken, and I did not yet know why. He had his episodes where he had been…off-put…but he was still Boromir, who attempted to teach Merry and Pippin to fight, and had not excluded me from spars either.

"Yes…" I said, very quietly. "It's me."

"Frodo…?" He looked around him. "Where is Frodo?"

"I do not know." I replied, coming closer and slowly lowering myself to my own knees, and placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm looking for him now." I paused a moment before questioning "Are you well?"

"No…" His voice shook. "I am lost…" He was so quiet. "I am betrayed by my own senses. I am…lost."

"Boromir, what happened?" I asked carefully.

"The Ring." He replied shortly.

"The Ring?" I tried to keep my voice calm. "What happened? Did Frodo put it on?" Boromir was mute. "Boromir…did you do something? Did Frodo do something? What happened?"

"I was not myself." Boromir explained, seeming to collect himself little by little. "I spoke with him…harshly." He looked at me, apologetic. "I was not myself."

"Did you hurt him?" I pressed.

"No." He shook his head. "I tried, but he ran off. He put the Ring on." He looked at me earnestly. "I did not mean to try to hurt him. I would never hurt Frodo in my right mind." He stared at me. "You believe me, yes?"

"Of course." I said, fear seeping in through a few chinks in my armor. "Of course you wouldn't." I slowly embraced his shoulders. "Let us go and find him now." We rose. "We'll just go and find him…"

There was a call from camp. "Look out! Arm yourself!" Then a roar and a clash of metal.

We were being attacked.


	18. Chapter 17 (We now stand alone)

"They've caught up with us." Boromir unsheathed his sword.

"Gideon." I gasped, remembering seeing him go off on his own to tie up snares. "Frodo." I looked around me, trying to sense where they may be, and where our threat was approaching from. "We have to find them."

Boromir changed, his nature being restored to how it had been when we pulled up on the shore. He grabbed my wrist. "We'll go find Frodo and your brother." He said. "Have your blade ready, Fali." I nodded, grabbing my sword from my belt. "This way." Boromir motioned for me to follow. I was at his heels soon.

"Gideon?! Frodo?! Sam?!" I shouted as we ran back.

"Do not call so much attention to us." Boromir warned. Something ahead of us rustled in the trees, an unrefined sword poking through the leaves. Boromir grabbed my shoulder and pulled me to the left, hiding us away down another trail. "Do not shout." He hissed under his breath. "Not a sound, Fali."

"I need to find Gideon." I whispered back, lowly. "He went off on his own."

"We will find him." Boromir promised. "Him and Frodo and everyone else. Now stay low."

I lowered myself closer to the ground as orcs burst past us, heading into the heart of the forest. "On my command." Boromir said, seeming to take me under his wing. He held up a hand in waiting, keeping watch on the approaching orcs. "Now!" He commanded, and we leapt up from the ground, blades raised, and eyes sharp.

I rushed forward and swung directly as the first orc in my path. My shorter stature landed my strike at his midsection, the side of which was mortally wounded. The orc knelt over in pain, his hand covering a rush of dark blood that began to flow quickly. I hurried to deliver similar assault to the expose shoulder of the orc, driving my blade home sideways into his chest. When I drew my weapon back, the orc fell. I hurried to defend myself from the second orc, which was prepared to leap upon me. I slipped to my knees briefly, dodging off to the side ,and cutting into his leg. The orc fell, and Boromir turned to quickly finish the job with a strike through the back of the orc's armour.

The party that had found us was small, only eight or nine of the creatures having come this way. With relief I noticed their clean swords. "They have no blood on their weapons." I smiled, some part of me easing.

"Gideon and Frodo may be unharmed still." Boromir nodded. "Quickly, this way."

/

I was accustomed to going off on my own now, but something about this time felt so…off. As though a nameless, intangible thing was watching me in the trees. I tried to shrug off the feeling of being watched and followed, and attempted to focus on the work at hand. My fingers soon found the practise of tying the rope familiar after not having performed it for days. I tied the length of rope deep within a bush, and hoped for a rabbit.

Common as rabbit was, it kept well and it would be welcome after the lack of hunting we'd had recently. I'd do what I could. Perhaps I should have asked Legolas to come alongside me, arrows were bound to more successful than snares. Quicker as well. But I remembered the hard look he had given me when I had mentioned Tauriel. It was still something of a sensitive subject, the way she had left Mirkwood so suddenly to follow my uncle into our mountain kingdom had been shocking at the time. She had often spoke of the close friendship between herself and the prince of Mirkwood, going back centuries to when she was a young girl.

There was rumor he may have even loved her…

No doubt being surrounded by children from the company of dwarves that helped to take her away was trying to his patience. Especially her partly dwarvish niece and nephew.

If that was the case, he was being far more pleasant toward us than a dwarf would have been under similar circumstances. Loyal as we were, we could certainly hold a grudge.

"Look out! Arm yourself!"

I froze, my ears catching the sound of metal and inhuman roars. I suddenly felt very small and very alone, and the world and the sounds of an approaching fight swirling around me in the wind.

Mahal. Not again. No, no, no. Not again.

I touched the hilt of my blade, but my hand was shaking too fiercely for me to hold onto anything. I gulped, and ran off farther into the trees, deserting the snare I had just tied. I could not be left alone out here to fight on my own. I would not stand a chance against a small hoard of orcs that would come racing toward me.

I had to hide. I ran, before spotting an overhang of roots, much like the one Fali, the hobbits and I had hid under when the Wraith was hunting us down. I dashed under the tree, pressing myself against the damp earth at the back of my hiding place. I could hear more yells, both orc and from those in the Fellowship. I could make out Aragorn, who leading them all into the fight.

I sat in my hole in the ground, feeling like the earth could swallow me up.

I was such a coward.

And then I heard someone approaching…

/

Boromir let no harm come to me. When an orc scout jumped into our path he cut him down instantly, and lifted me up a degree, over the fallen body so I would not trip.

"He has to be out here somewhere." I huffed out, a little breathless and speaking of Gideon. "He wouldn't have gone out so far just to tie up a few snares."

"There is no sign of Frodo." Boromir replied.

"He may have ran back to the others." I said.

"No, he was frightened." Boromir shook his head. "he may be still wearing the Ring." I frowned at that news. It was not good for Frodo to wear the Ring at all…yet in this case it would keep him protected. I did not know what was for the best. I only hoped he'd suddenly pop out of the trees and then Boromir and I could put the hobbit in between us, and run off to find Gideon to do the same.

"We'll have to split up." Boromir said. "There's no telling where they are hiding. We'll increase our chances of finding them safely if we go off on our own."

"Our own?" I asked, a bit surprised. "But we could find them together couldn't we?"

"Aye, but it's no guarantee we'll find them in time." Boromir said. "I'll go this way, you head farther out."

He made to leave but I flinched and grabbed hold of his sleeve. "Boromir…"

"Do not tell me you're doubting yourself now." He said, not harshly, but almost in a comforting ton, the way a sparring instructor may have spoken. "You did so well in Moria."

"But I was not alone there." I replied.

"It is hard to stand alone…" He nodded. "It is hard to draw courage when there is no one else to look too." He looked at me seriously. "But think of Gideon, and Frodo, alone and maybe even unarmed out there. Someone must come to aid them." He smiled. "No matter what happens, you must find a way to stand alone." His eyes smirked at me. "I'm sure you'll be able to, with that fire in you."

"Thank you." I mumbled.

"Go, Fali." He urged me. "Hurry. Keep your eyes alert, any movement and you strike, do you understand?"

"Aye." I nodded.

"And stay brave, understand?" He said, his hands clenching my shoulders. "Don't think about what there is to be afraid of, just swing and strike as your body tells you to."

"Aye." A second nod.

"Good." He said. "Off with you now." He sent me away, with a light shaking of my shoulders.

"Boromir?" I called to him as we ran off in separate directions. He turned his head back. "You'll come find us later, won't you?"

"Aye, I'll find you." He nodded. "Now go!"

I did, running off with my blade raised as he had told me to do.

Gideon…

Frodo…

I ran until I could hardly hear the noise of the fighting back at the camp. "Gideon!" I shouted. "Frodo!" There was no reply, and it worried me greatly. Where were they? Why did they not answer me? Were they far off or had they…I shook my head and kept running, feeling as though I may be going in circles with my disorienting frenzy to find them.

My foot brushed against something and from within a bush a contraption of rope sprung up. A snare. Gideon's snare. "Gideon!" I called, and then ran off in the direction I thought he may have gone. "Please…" I panted with lack of breath. "Please…"

Something moved, from the base of a tree. I froze, and pointed my sword ahead of me. There was the light scuffling of something moving along the ground as I neared and then…

"Fali?" The word was hushed, and from my place I could see a pair of blue eyes looking up at me from beneath an entanglement of tree roots.

"Gideon." I cried out, happy and relieved. He sprang up from under the tree and his arms were around my shoulders.

"What happened?" He asked.

"I know as little as you do." I said. "I was with Boromir when we heard shouting from camp. There were some orcs that came our way. I have not seen any since we went off in different directions. We are far from camp now." I pulled on his arm, but he pulled it back from my grasp.

"We're not going back that way, are we?"

"Frodo disappeared." I said. "We must find him."

"Disappeared as in he is lost, or disappeared as in…?"

I frowned. "He wore the Ring." I replied quietly.

"Fali, it could be drawing orcs to him, just as it did the Wraiths." My brother pleaded for my safety.

"Maybe, but we do not yet know." I said. "They are not as smart of the Wraiths were, I think." I gave Gideon's shoulder a comforting shake. "Draw your sword. Frodo needs us." He looked uneasy. "Be brave." I said, repeating Boromir's words. "Don't think about what there is to fear. It's easier to move along that way."

"If we go back to camp, we should run the longer trail along the shore." Gideon relented the smallest bit. "It will be safer there."

"Very well." I agreed.

I grabbed his wrist. "Keep alert." I reminded him, and we began our journey back to the shoreline. The closer we got to our camp, the more noise we could hear, loud, insistent, and unfortunately seeming to be coming nearer to us. I saw a dark blur in the trees, and prepared myself. Another orc jumped forth, this time striking dowanwards and forcing me to abandon my previous attack, dodging away. The blade followed me and I turned to black the sstrike. The metal clashed, just as another orc roared, coming out of the trees. "Gideon!" I shouted for his help.

Gideon drew up his sword into a defensive stance, one he held strongly beside me. His eyes were wide, staring into the snarling, disfigured face of the orc. I dared to meet my attackers gaze as well, and found streaks and spatters of white paint upon it's face. Something that resembled a hand.

We were handling the attack well, until a third orc joined the first two, outnumbering us. I thought quickly, and hurried to slide from the block I was in, moved quickly to the side, and managed to stab past the tough bindings of the orc's armour, puncturing it's ribcage. I did not even wait to see if it was dead, flinging myself into another defensive stance before the third orc could kill one of us.

Gideon was now struggling, trying to strike at his enemy, managing to give him a small cut or bounce his sword off the armour on its chest, and then going back into a defensive stance to prevent himself from cutting cut down.

"Strike, Gideon!" I shouted, and he stabbed at the creature, his sword sinking deeply into the side of the orc. As it fell, Gideon was still, his blade still embedded in its flesh.

I delivered a fatal blow to the orc I was fighting. "It's dead, draw back your sword." I said, gently.

"Mister Frodo!" Our heads both turned in the same direction.

"That was Sam." I said, panic in my voice. "Hurry, he sounds like he's in distress."

We ran again, our legs starting to feel the energy draining from them. The trees thinned and the gravel filled sand crunched under our boots. My gaze was fixed upon the river, and I beheld Frodo, sitting in a boat, and pulling a drenched Sam out of the river.

"Frodo!" I all but shrieked. "Sam!"

They looked up, startled by my scream. I began to wave my arms. "Come back!" I yelled to them. They said nothing in reply, just looked disheartened and let the boat turn around farther out in the river.

"What are they doing?" I asked to Gideon. "Why are they leaving?"

"Frodo must be taking the guest up on his own." Gideon said, trying to calm me. "Surely you noticed how he has changed. He's far more solitary, and restless. The Ring has caused him a lot of worry. It'll be easier for him with just Sam."

"He's going to Mordor?! With Sam?!" I gasped. I raced to where my bag lay and snatched it up.

"Fali, what are you doing?" Gideon was suddenly worried.

I gave him an apologetic look. "I'm so sorry…" I said. "I wish I had more time, but they're already picking up the oars."

"You're leaving too?! You're going with them?!"

"I have too." I said, making my way to the water already.

Gideon grabbed me firmly by my arm. "No, you don't." He almost snapped at me. "It's Frodo and Sam's own choice."

"It's also my own choice." I fought back, temper threatening to flare. I quenched it down quickly. If this was to be a goodbye I would not spoil it with smart remarks. I took a steadying breath. "Gideon, please, it's Frodo and Sam. Two hobbits, on their way through Mordor? The chances of us making it there all together were slim to start with. They'll need help. This is worth more than just Frodo and Sam, this is about the Ring, and having it destroyed once and for all."

He frowned. "I know I said you'd have me throughout this journey and you still can…you can come with me and…"

"I do not want to leave." He replied, quietly.

"I'm so sorry." I said again. "You never would have done something like this if I hadn't pulled you along." He nodded, quiet. I tried to sound optimistic for him once more. "They have the Ring. If they do intend to complete this quest on their own, then the Fellowship is broken." I smiled slightly. "You'll be free Gideon. You could go home with the others. The adventure will be over for you, if you want it to be."

"And what about you?" He asked.

"I don't know." I said honestly. "But I can't go home without knowing Frodo and Sam are safe. I suppose I'll be finally setting things right, taking up adventure because I wanted to, and letting you do as you wish." I glanced over to the river. "If you intend to let me go, you better release me now, or else I'll never be able to swim out to them."

He paused, eyes darting between the shore and the river and me.

He let go, slowly.

"Thank you." I said, and threw my arms tightly around his shoulders. His kissed my forehead. I returned the gesture. "I will come back." I swore, with determination in my voice.

I ran off, splashing into the water, and quickly propelling myself through the river to the boat.

Boromir would not be able to find us later, but he would be happy that I had found Frodo and not let the hobbits go off on their own.

"Fali!" Frodo shouted, almost scolding me.

"Miss Fali!" Sam was shocked. He picked up an oar and shoved it in my direction, splashing the top of my head with water. I approached them, and ceased the furious kicking of my legs, and reach out through the forming current to grab hold of the oar. The hobbits pulled me close enough to the boat to safely climb inside, just as it caught the current.

I was drenched, but that did not stop me from snapping at the two of them like they were children as I took hold of my skirt and began to wring it out over the side of the boat. "Just what were you _thinking_?" I demanded. "Are you _addled_ in the head?"

"We could ask you the same, Miss Fa-" Sam bagan.

A glare from me cut him short. "I wouldn't be soaking wet and in this boat right now if you two weren't going off on your own." I lightened my tone a little. "It's dangerous out there, and neither of you have had any training in your lives." I hardened my look again. "And if either of you thought for a second that I would just let you go off into Mordor on your own, then I _know_ you're addled in the head."

"I didn't want anyone else to come with me." Frodo replied. "Not even Sam."

"You were thinking you'd go off entirely alone?" I gasped. "And you jumped into the river to follow him?" I turned to Sam. "Sam, you don't even know how to swim."

Sam looked a little sheepish, realising what he had put himself through.

"Frodo, I don't think you'd be able to stand alone on a journey like this." I said, bringing up Boromir's words.

He stared at his feet.

"Are you that angry with me?" I asked. "I only wanted to help keep you safe."

"No." He replied, and there was a small, but thankful smile. "I'll be glad to have you. I just didn't want to endanger anyone."

"I'd walk through fire for you, my friend." I grinned back. "Water was far easier a challenge."

I turned around to see our disappearing camp. Gideon stood there, very much alone. He waved his arm to me. I waved back.

It would be a long time before I saw him again, and by then, much would have changed.

 **I don't like splitting siblings up, but since Frodo and Fali have been friends for such a long time, she'd want to follow him and keep him and Sam protected. Gideon also needs to lose Fali in order to face his own demons and be put in a situation where he has to rely on himself and grow. Also, I've always thought it a bit unfair how 10th walkers etc always seem to focus on Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli, and then Frodo and Sam are gone. They're loveable (and super important) characters, and I don't want to lose them.**


	19. Chapter 18 (Gideon's choice)

She was gone. I watched her float away, our arms waving at one another for a full minute before they disappeared along the river. I felt light, almost too light. As if she had been an anchor and now I was some boat floating off on the river too, nothing to hold me in place or keep me from slipping over the nearby falls.

I had no idea what to do without her, and in that moment I saw how much I had been leaning on Fali for some sort of guidance and strength.

I had to shake myself from my mental blankness, and force my mind to start working again. Reeling, I ran off from the shore again. The forest was much quieter now, the orcs must have been killed off or fled.

"Aragorn!" I called out, hoping to find the others unharmed. "Aragorn!"

There was a roar from behind me, as a hidden orc jumped from the bushes on a ridge above me. I whirled around, my sword hurrying to crash against a serrated blade that he held. He thrust me and my sword aside, and I was flung into the ground, my head banging against part of an unearthed root. Lights exploded in front of my eyes from the impact, and I blinked wildly to clear my sight, darkness mixing with the snapping lights, disorienting me. When my sight cleared enough, I could see only the gory, blue face of an orc, one that looked like he had great fangs protruding from its mouth.

He was taller, bolder, than his kin in Moria.

I tried to swing my sword out to protect myself, defend myself in whatever way possible. The orc stepped on my forearm, the metal on its boots pressing into my skin.

My heart pounded, flying up into my throat. I struggled, trying to reach or kick or pull myself away violently. The serrated sword was drawn back, my heart squeezed, icy adrenaline freezing up my entire chest.

There was a subtle whistle in the air, a much more noticeable thud of an arrow embedding into flesh, and a light crack. The orc let out a groan of pain and then collapsed, falling next to me with an arrow in the back of its neck. I sat up, jumping quickly to my feet.

Legolas and Gimli were just over the next hill, and quickly sprinting toward me. "There's more!" Gimli shouted. I broke out into a run, as the two of them followed. They stopped by the body of the fallen orc who had tried to kill me and prepared to face the rest of the orcs, seven or so. Legolas stepped upon the shoulder blade of the dead orc and pulled the sturdy arrow from it's neck to use again, firing it into an oncoming attacker.

"Where is Aragorn?!" I shouted back at them, noticing the absence of the ranger.

"He went off on his own!" Gimli shouted back. He let out a sort of battle cry, and then swung his axe into the calf of an orc. "He's ahead, no doubt."

I ran in that direction. "Where are you running off to?!" Gimli shouted after me, but dismissed me when the last few orcs got too close and he had to focus on where he aimed his axe to slip it in between their armour.

"Aragorn!" I shouted. I heard nothing from him, and kept running. I was wandering just how far he might have gone out when I saw a corpse of an orc on the forest floor, in worse condition than most that we had killed. This one was…had been, more correctly…taller than most of his kind, and had a warrior's build.

Besides that he was bleeding out his dead body from several punctures, and where his arm and head had been severed. Luckily the face was looking into the ground now and I was spared that image.

The corpse made me slow down just enough to notice the two men at the base of a tree. "Aragorn…Boromir." I called out to them.

Aragorn looked back at me and that is when I saw the arrows, stuck in Boromir's chest.

"Boromir!" I ran a bit closer, but did not kneel beside him as Aragorn did. I saw his pale face and the blood staining his clothes and the fact that he could even breath through all that pain had me in shock and I could not come any closer.

"Fali…" He gasped out the name of my sister. "Where is Fali?" He implored. "Did she find you?"

"Yes." I answered quickly, and nodded. "Yes, she did."

"Where is she…now?" He winced as he drew in a larger breath.

"She has left." I said, informing him and Aragorn both. "Frodo and Sam went off on their own, and she went after them."

"Good." He breathed. "She will keep them safe."

""The Ring is beyond our reach now." Aragorn said.

"Forgive me. I did not see it. I have failed you all." Boromir apologized as he lay dying.

"No, Boromir, you fought bravely! You have kept your honor." Aragorn assured him quickly. The moments were fast and fleeting now, yet they also seemed to stretch, as if time was slowing down. Aragorn reached to pull the arrows from Boromir's chest.

"Leave it." Boromir swatted his hand away. "It is over."

"Aye, it will only encourage more bleeding." My mind was numb, and now resorting to reiterating bits of knowledge from all those texts I had read before. Pulling out one of the arrows now would kill him within a moment…and the agony of having it ripped out would likely cause him to lose consciousness in his last moments. Whether that would be a blessing or a curse I didn't know.

"Gideon…" He looked over to me. "Fali believed you could do this. You must prove her right." He said. I felt a deep pang of sympathy for him then. I had always thought Boromir thought little of me on this journey. I had not done much, or fought as well as the others. I had not acknowledged that he may have had faith in me.

"I will." I said, quietly, choosing to agree with him. Now was not the time to be voicing the doubts I still had for myself, or the fact that our Fellowship had been dissolved and our responsibilities for Frodo and the Ring were gone with them.

"It is over." Boromir repeated. "The world of men will fall, and all will come to darkness… and my city to ruin."

"I do not know what strength is in my blood…" Aragorn began to vow. "…but I swear to you I will not let the White City fall… nor our people fail." He promised Boromir. Those words were spoken by an heir and not just a ranger.

"Our people?" Boromir asked. He smirked a little. "Our people." He agreed. He reached out for his sword, which had fallen from his grasp. He clutched at the hilt and Aragorn gently helped him place the blade proudly over his chest. "I would have followed you my brother… my captain… my king." Boromir said proudly.

His chest shuddered with the effort of breathing, and then his entire person relaxed, settling peacefully on the ground.

He was gone.

I looked away. I couldn't look on his face the way Aragorn could, not with his eyes still open. "Be at peace, son of Gondor." Aragorn said quietly, and then bent and kissed Boromir's forehead. I was reminded of the farewell between Fali and I only a few minutes ago, for we had done the same. A fond goodbye between siblings.

Legolas and Gimli came running over, having killed off the last of the orcs that had remained. The elf looked sadly over the two men, and Gimli bowed his head a little and looked away a moment later, letting out a sigh.

"They will look for his coming from the White Tower. But he will not return." Aragorn said, as he stood again.

"We should go find Merry and Pippin." I spoke softly.

"We have already searched for them." Legolas replied. "There was no sign of them."

"They were taken." Aragorn replied. "Boromir defended them, as best he could." He glanced over me quickly and then added "Frodo and Sam have left, Fali has gone with them."

/

We placed Boromir in an empty boat, his sword still clasped to his chest, his horn, now split beside him, and his shield by his head. The belt buckle gifted by Lady Galadriel shined at his waist. We launched the boat out to the river, and watched as if floated along, traveling over the falls with our companion.

Legolas and Gimli hurried to gather our supplies and place it into the last remaining boat. I was grabbing my own things, settling it all into my bag. I looked up to Aragorn. "Do you think I could take a wafer of lembas?" I asked.

"Your own?" Aragorn asked. I nodded. "What for?"

"For the journey home." I replied.

"You're leaving?"

I nodded again, slowly. "There is nothing more we can do for Frodo, now that he has left."

"You give this quest up then?" He raised an eyebrow at me.

"Well…" I faltered.

"I am not forcing you to make any decision." Aragorn held up his hand as he approached me. "But I heard you say you would prove yourself to Boromir." He looked me over. "You look like a good man." He paused. "And a man with honor would fulfill his words."

A great internal debate began in my head, one side telling me that I had quietly promised a dying man I would try to prove myself by finishing this quest. Another side was saying that the quest was ended anyway, and there was nothing more to be done. Yet another side was telling me half of that promise was to Fali, and then that Fali had released me of this duty.

That she'd want me to stay.

That Boromir was dead, and would never know if I fulfilled my words or not.

That I was afraid, once again.

"Hurry, Frodo, Fali and Sam have reached the eastern shore." Legolas said, pushing the boat farther out into the water.

Aragorn faced him and stood still, then shook his head a little.

"You mean not to follow them?" Legolas asked.

"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands." Aragorn replied.

"Then it has all been in vain." Gimli sighed. "The Fellowship has failed."

"Not if we hold true to each other. We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Not while we have strength left." He grabbed their shoulders. He glanced behind at me. "What say you, Master Gideon? Will you be joining us?"

"I…" I fumbled. I wanted to return home more than anything. To wear the small accomplishment I had for making it this far safely, and then mourn the loss of my companions and hope for the safety of my sister.

"There is a boat left, should you decide to leave." Aragorn told me, in a quiet tone. "If you decide to make the journey back, you make it alone."

Alone. Could I make the journey alone? I had not anticipated for Boromir to die and for Merry and Pippin to be taken. I had thought I'd have others with me on the journey back. Now there looked like there would be no journey back unless I took it up myself. Home was far off…and there may still be orcs and other nasty creatures out there.

I had promised Boromir.

I had promised a dying man.

Was I a man of honor?

What would I even be able to manage? What could I even do?

"Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light. Let us hunt some Orc!" Aragorn said, determined. He turned and went off into the trees again, cloak flying behind him with his speed. Legolas and Gimli grinned at one another.

The dwarf and elf took off after him. Gimli glanced back at me for a moment, but then shrugged and left me beside the boat. It was already halfway in the water and watering patiently for me to make my choice.

The struggle returned to my mind. Honor versus fear. My promise versus my doubt. Lady Galadriel had not been lying in the least when she had said my doubt troubled me greatly.

I wanted to return to my home and my family. Would they not be overjoyed to see me?

It was this fatal thought that ended up making my choice.

I would return alone…and Mother and Father would never forgive me for abandoning Fali so, or for giving up what I had started. Never mind the image I would have given Erebor as a prince, I was far more concerned with the image I bestowed upon my parents as their son. They had taught me better.

I could not go back without Fali beside me, or at least with the knowledge that she was safe.

Honor and promises won out, overshadowing my doubt long enough for me to shove the unneeded boat into the river, so it could float beyond my reach before I had the chance to change my mind. I watched it go off, wondering if I had made the right choice, and then turned and ran to join the others.

"Aragorn! Gimli! Legolas!" I called, hoping that the distance between us was no too great and I was now stranded on the shore. Eventually, the trees had decent enough gaps in between them for me to see them, looking like grey shadows in the cloaks given by the elves. "Wait!" I shouted more loudly than ever. Aragorn stopped, and this caused Legolas and Gimli to stop. I was waving my arm back and forth to capture their attention through the trees and then came running forward, my breath a bit shorter now, and my hand shaking on the hilt of my sword.

"I'm coming." I huffed out in a breath. "I'm com…coming too." I wheezed a little. Aragorn stepped forward, leaving the side of Gimli and Legolas to come and greet me.

"For a moment, I thought the boat would be the more welcoming option for you." He said, placing his hand on my shoulder. It was meant to be a friendly gesture, but it also served to keep my frame upright.

"I promised Boromir…I would prove myself." I took in a great breath. "I can't promise I'll be very good…" I went on. "But I'll not slow you down, I'll make sure of that." I grimaced the smallest bit. "And I couldn't go back without knowing Fali was alright. It would tear open my parent's hearts. It wouldn't reflect very well on me either…leaving my younger sister to go off to Mordor and returning home to a nice, safe mountain. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did that to Fali, or our family."

Aragorn nodded, understandingly.

"I know Merry and Pippin were more Fali's friends than mine, but they were part of the Fellowship, so I can't forsake them, even when the Fellowship is now broken." I sighed. "It is all duty really…I can't escape it."

"There are not many who can." Aragorn replied. "In terms of good men, at least."

"I'm sorry." I suddenly apologized. "I know I've tried not to reveal it but…I did not wish to be part of the Fellowship at all."

"You did say quests were not one of your skills." Aragorn nodded, and I remembered the day Fali had engaged me in a fight before Lord Elrond, winning me my place here. I had been speaking with Aragorn right before, and had shared my doubt with him.

"I've been dying to return home ever since we left for Rivendell." I knew it was almost as much complaining as it was confessing, but I cared little. "From the Shire, before we even met you and knew you as 'Strider'. I felt like I had no place, and I only wanted to return to somewhere safer."

"And now?"

"Now I am bound by duty, and even when I have the chance to go, I find I cannot. Not without a burdened conscience." I added, more quietly. "And I cannot find it within me to make the journey back alone either." I admitted.

A fine addition I was proving to be again, I thought to myself with some bitter sarcasm.

Aragorn looked at me seriously. "Whatever you're reasons for coming, I am glad you have decided to join us." He said. "Now come, we must hurry if we wish to track them down."

He turned, and I took Fali's place following in his shadow, breaking into a steady run when the others did. I had promised to keep up with them and I intended too. I would not make myself a burden to them, certainly not with the lives of Merry and Pippin at stake. If I was to prove myself for Boromir and Fali I would have to start somewhere, and making sure the remaining Fellowship wasn't slowed by myself was a good place to start.

That and I feared what would happen to me if I fell so far behind I was lost, and then truly stranded and left for dead.

I exerted such effort while trying to keep my pace up, in fact pushing myself to keep a small degree ahead to make up for everything I felt I had done poorly, that I was extremely fatigued when the night fell upon us. When it was too dark to see on our own anymore, Aragorn halted us.

"Make a fire." He said. "As quickly as you can." Gimli set to this task at once. "Just a small one Gimli."

I felt I should be helping in some way, but my legs trembled when they ceased moving, and the muscles in them quickly gave a brief spasm and then I collapsed to a sitting position by a rock.

My head fell back against the surface of the rock, my whole body slumping down. Aragorn spotted this. "Don't become too comfortable, Master Gideon." He said. "We'll be moving on again in half an hour, at the most."

"What?" I asked, head snapping back up.

"They have gotten far ahead of us. Time is of great importance. We cannot rest yet."

At this I stood, not wishing to tempt myself with sleep when I would not be able to have it for a few more hours yet. I groaned internally, my legs feeling as thick as stone, and just as heavy. My eyelids felt like lead and my mind was slowing down, not thinking much apart from deciding I should not push myself like that again. If we were to keep this pace up over the next few days I would need to become used to it, and that would mean bracing myself.

"Master Gideon?" Aragorn asked again. I focused my attention back to Aragorn, who was crafting a torch for us to see by.

"Yes?" I asked.

Aragorn laid down the torch he was making. He came up to me, rummaging through his own bag. He tore a small corner of lembas from one of the wrapped pieces. "Here, eat." He passed it to me. "It will help."

I accepted the bread. "Thank you." I replied, placing the entire piece in my mouth and chewing slowly.

"We will continue on the trail for a few more hours." He said. "Then we will rest until daybreak."

I nodded, quiet.

"You may have the last watch this time." Aragorn informed me.

"Thank you." I repeated. In giving me the last watch I would able to go right to sleep when we finally stopped, and not be interrupted; only having to rise a little earlier.

"You will become used to it soon." Aragorn promised me, giving my shoulder a small shake.

There was a small spark of light, as Gimli's pile of twigs became alight. Aragorn poured some oil that the elves had given us over the torch and then touched it to the flames. The torch light up, and he crushed the small fire beneath his boot so the sparks would not burn down the whole forest. "Come, they went this way." He said, and we followed him once more.

I was thrust back into adventure again; if anything this time it was more on my own accord than the previous occurrences. I did not very well know what was going to happen to me, or if I was doing alright, but I focused on keeping within sight of the others and not collapsing into a tired heap on the ground.

I had passed from under the comforting and protective wing of Fali, and was migrating under the wing of Aragorn. I knew he would be more serious than my sister, but would at least be able to keep me safe at times. He was forgiving now, but I did not believe this would continue on for much longer than a day or two. Lives were in danger, I would have to grow used to the new circumstances quickly.

So long as I did not cause more trouble than I was worth, I would be able to stay under his wing.


	20. Chapter 19 (Lost in the hills)

"At least we have a lot of supplies with us." I looked at all of our packs. "It may be a pain to carry it all, but it will be useful." I threw my own bag over my shoulder. "Push the boat into the river, will you Sam?"

"Are you sure?" Sam asked.

"Well, if you're set on carrying it to Mordor…" I replied, smirking a little.

Sam replied that he had no such intention and shoved the boat we no longer needed back into the river.

"Where do we go now?" Sam asked.

"Up." I nodded to a rocky path leading to higher altitudes. "First we catch our bearings, and from there we decide our path." I looked over at Frodo. "Would you care to lead, Frodo? We are just headed uphill."

"Yes." Frodo nodded, and headed in front of me. "We should be able to see Mordor from up there." He said.

"What do you think Mordor will be like?" Sam asked.

"I don't expect it to be very pleasant." Frodo said.

"It will be challenging." I said. "Enemies, heinous terrain, there might even be a dragon or two."

"Dragons?" Frodo and Sam asked, Frodo a bit curious and Sam in a bit of panic.

"Alright, probably no dragons." I admitted. "But enemies and heinous terrain surely. The stuff of adventure."

"Do you think we will make it to Mordor?" Frodo asked. "Fali?"

"Making it there will be difficult but doable…" I said. "It's the journey through it that will be more pressing…" I shook my head. "Let's not worry ourselves just yet. If we worry now, we won't be able to go on. It's best we just focus on putting on foot in front of the other, just as Bilbo always said in his tales."

After an hour of uphill walking, we reached a plateau. On one side of the hill was the river we had traveled on an a stretching forest. On the other was more forest and plains and at the end of the horizon was a haze that covered what lay beyond in a shadow.

"Good, we can at least see where we are going." I said. I started to rummage through my supplies. "There must be a map in one of our bags…"

"Mordor." Frodo said, staring at the shadowy landscape at the edge of the world. "I hope the others find a safer route."

I thought of Gideon briefly. Perhaps he was on his way home already. My hand wandered to my silver pendent. I held onto the image of the dear, and thought of Gideon with a similar decoration round his own neck in the shape of an otter. Yes, he would find his way now.

"Strider will look after them." Sam assured the two of us.

"Yes." I said, softly. "Aragorn will look after them. He'll lead them home."

"I don't suppose we'll ever see them again." Frodo said, with a small sigh of regret.

"We may yet, Mister Frodo, we may."

"We will." I said, determinedly.

"Of course, you're going to see Mister Gideon again." Sam said.

"Not just him, Gimli, Aragorn, Legolas, Boromir…we'll see all of them again. When this is all finished."

"Sam, Fali." We turned to Frodo, who was speaking. "I'm glad both of you are with me."

"I'm glad you have not pushed us away in a time of need." I pulled a small map from the corner of my bag. "Aha!" I exclaimed. I opened the parchment. "Hopefully this will be able to show us the way." I passed the map to Frodo. "Lead the way, Ring-bearer."

Frodo took the map in his hands and headed down the hill. Sam sighed, glancing at Mordor again. "One foot in front of the other Sam." I gave him a gentle pat on the back.

"Right, Miss Fali." He nodded, and followed Frodo.

"I'll have to get used to being called that, I suppose." I shrugged, and took up behind them both, where I could keep an eye on my dear hobbit friends.

And so it began…

I, for my own part, was comfortable (or at least as comfortable as I could be). There were no signs of orcs or other foul things yet, which was encouraging. We were in the middle of a rocky and rather sparse landscape, which seemed remote and troubling to the hobbits probably, given the beauty of the Shire they had seen all their lives, but I found it familiar. The little ledges, cliffs, plateaus and hills of shale pieces reminded me of my mountain home, and the paths leading to it's greater heights.

I was fondly reminded of afternoons with a blue sky overhead, and climbing around the rocks and ridges, frolicking along the little trails with glee. The mountain had been my play-ground. I took the lead beside Frodo, easily clambering over the boulders, and giving him and Sam a hand along the way. Hobbit's were not the best of climbers, at least when rocks and cliffs were involved.

I kept a good eye on both Frodo and Sam. It was what Aragorn, Boromir, and everyone else would have wanted me to do. Sam tried to be optimistic, and did whatever he was told. Bless his heart for his efforts. Frodo was having a respite after leaving the Fellowship. Out here, with no one around but Sam and I, he seemed to be more at ease. His appetite was still less, but he remembered to eat. He did not look as nervous as before, and his hands did not flinch up to the buttons of his shirt where the Ring lay any more. During the day he was able to walk on, talk with Sam and I, and smile when we were encouraging or humorous. It looked like leaving the Fellowship had actually done him good, and had been the right thing for us to do.

Of course, the night always came, and revealed that not everything had been solved yet. Frodo's sleep remained fitful. He often shuddered, and his eyelids shook, as he glanced back and forth in his sleep.

I knew he was having nightmares, though he did not speak of them. What they were of was a mystery to me, but I knew they could certainly be nothing good.

When Frodo was asleep I would sit beside him as I watched over our little camp. When he shivered violently, facing the terrors of his mind, I placed a hand on his shoulder, gently, hoping not to wake him. It took him long enough to fall asleep, and he needed all the rest he could get.

The map was not entirely useful. Though it did show the area we were in it was not detailed enough to know exactly where we were, and we found ourselves going up and down, glancing around ourselves when we were up high, and trying to figure where we should go next.

We were on one such cliff when I discerned that our best path lay directly ahead of us.

"But there is no path ahead of us, Miss Fali." Sam dared to look down from the edge. Mist had rolled into the rocky hills, and now you could not see the bottom of the drop.

"We'll simply have to climb down." I said.

"Climb down?" Sam looked back at me.

"Yes." I replied. "Don't worry Sam, we have the rope that Lady Galadriel gave to you. That will be more than strong enough."

"Is it safe?" Frodo asked. "We do not know how high this cliff is."

"It's can't be too awful, given how far we've climbed to get up here."

"So if one of us was to…let go of the rope…by accident…" Sam delicately brought up.

I shook my head. "That would not be a very good idea, Sam."

Sam appeared uneasy. Frodo stared at the mist floating at the bottom. "It will take too long if we keep go back and around." He judged. "And it will only give us more chance to lose our bearings Sam…"

"I suppose you're right, Mister Frodo." Sam agreed.

Sam tied the rope round a solid stone, and flung the other end over the cliff. Frodo bravely went first, and I placed Sam in between us along the rope, for fear he wouldn't have the courage to go after me. I took up the rear, giving on last, firm tug on the rope just to assure myself it was sturdy.

I placed my feet against the wall of rock in front of us and began to slowly descend.

"Not so fast, Miss Fali." Sam urged me to slow my pace. I glanced below me and saw he was just underneath me.

"It's alright Sam, just hold on tight and use your legs." I told him. "Go. Go on." I waved my hand at him. He lowered himself another degree. "Good work." I said. I was too comfortable in the rocks it seemed. I would have to slow myself to their pace, or else I would drive them off the rope.

"Can you see the bottom?" Sam asked Frodo, farther below us.

"No. Don't look down Sam. Just keep going." Frodo called back up to us.

"Look Sam, we must be halfway down already." I encouraged. "Just a bit farther." I lowered myself again.

"Look out, please, Miss Fali!" Sam interrupted my progress again, this time my closeness causing him to lose his footing briefly. He stumbled a bit, and hurried to correct himself. "Oh! Catch it! Grab it Mister Frodo!" His calls changed.

I looked down to see some small box fall from Sam's pocket. Frodo reached out and caught the item. Then he too lost his footing, attempted to stabilize himself—and disappeared into the mist with a short yell of surprise.

"Frodo!" I shouted, my voice bouncing back against the stones.

"I think I have found the bottom." His voice came back, not sounding in pain or anything ill.

"Move along, Sam." I urged the second hobbit, a little less patiently this time.

Sam stepped onto solid ground again, muttering "Bogs and rope and goodness knows what. It's not natural, none of it."

I jumped onto the low ground again was saw Frodo standing there, thankfully unharmed. "You're not hurt?" I asked.

"No, not at all." Frodo shook his head.

"You're sure?" I asked again.

"The drop was hardly anything." He shrugged.

"Well, thank Mahal it was." I almost snapped at him. "I thought you were gone when you disappeared." I stared at the box. "And for what did you risk your life?"

"I don't know." He examined the box. "Sam, what is this?"

Sam looked sheepish for endangering our friend over the small thing. "Nothing, just a bit of seasoning. I thought maybe if we was having a roast chicken one night or somethin'."

"Roast chicken?"

"You did all this for a bit of sage and rosemary?!" I chided him.

"You never know." Sam replied.

I groaned. "Hobbits." I sighed. "I should have guessed."

"Sam, my dear Sam." Frodo found the whole idea more amusing than I did.

"It's very special, that. It's the best salt in all the Shire."

"Salt…" I sighed heavily to myself again. All that for something as plain as salt? Given salt was bit of a luxury now, but still…

"It is special. It's a little bit of home." Frodo agreed with Sam.

In a way, he was right. Poor Sam, he had been pulled into this quest just as much as Gideon had. I couldn't hold it against him too badly.

"We can't leave this for someone to follow us down." Frodo looked to the rope.

"Who's going to follow us down here, Mister Frodo? It's a shame really. Lady Galadriel gave me that. Real elvish rope." He sighed. "Well, there's nothing for it. It's one of my knots. Won't come free in a hurry." He tugged sharply on the rope, and the whole length cam falling down.

"Real elvish rope?" Frodo grinned, humored.

"Let's just be glad that didn't happen while any of us where still hanging onto it." I shook my head. "We need to be more careful." I took out the map again, and found the route I had been hoping for blocked by yet more boulders. "Lovely." I said to myself, with sarcasm. I glanced at the cliff we had just climbed down. There was no going back up it now. "Come on, let's go this way." I began to lead the way through the only clear path we had.

After wandering about until we managed to get higher up again, we saw Mordor again in the distance. "Mordor. The one place in Middle-Earth we don't want to see any closer. It's the one place we are trying to get to and it's just where we can't get." Sam said. "Let's face it Mister Frodo. We're lost. I don't think Gandalf meant for us to come this way." He looked at me apologetically. "I'm sorry to say so, but the map's been of little use, Miss Fali."

"He didn't mean for a lot of things to happen Sam. But they did." Frodo sadly agreed.

A great, unexpected jolt came over Frodo then, knocking him to the ground and taking away his breath. For a moment I thought he had collapsed and lost consciousness, but when I knelt down to his side he was already lifting himself back up. He looked awake, but shaken. "Frodo, what happened to you?" I asked. I had not expected that simply mentioning Gandalf would have that profound an effect on him. The bodily reaction was almost unnatural.

"It's the Ring, isn't it?" Sam asked.

"it's getting heavier." Frodo replied, quiet. His eyes were still wide with shock over what had happened to him.

"Sit down and catch your breath." I said, gently. Frodo sat himself down on a larger rock, and his hand clutched at the Ring through his shirt. I slapped lightly at his hand. "Stop that." I said, firmly. "It won't help you any." Sam passed him some water, which he drank, and nodded a little to agree with me.

"What happened?" I asked again, once his thirst had been quenched.

"Nothing." He replied, shortly.

"You're lying. You wouldn't have just fallen down like that on your own." I stared at the Ring, which seemed to stare right back again. "You say it's getting heavier…" I tried to get him to speak. "Do you hear it speaking to you sometimes?" I asked. "Maybe in your nightmares?"

"Fali…"

"I know you've been having them." I replied. "There's no use in ignoring it."

"I saw him." Frodo spoke quietly, obviously trying to make sure Sam did not overhear.

"Who?"

"The Dark Lord." He answered. "It has not been the first time."

"You have seen him before?"

"When I wore the Ring." Frodo admitted with a heavy heart.

A wave of different emotions came over me, the most powerful being my temper, which was directed more at the Ring than it was at Frodo. For the hobbit I felt a strong sympathy. I set my face straight to not seem angry as I said "The Ring is just trying to frighten you. It's want to be found but not destroyed. It alive in its own way…and it only wants to manipulate you. Pay no attention to it." I narrowed my eyes at the gold object in question.

I'll be glad to see you dissolve back into nothing when you're back in the fires of Mount Doom, I thought to myself, some small part of me hoping that the Ring was somehow aware of that threat.

"What food have we got left?" Frodo asked Sam then. Over the few days we had gone through the last bit of meat I had preserved in my bag. Now that the issue was brought up I found myself worried. This was not the most suitable of areas for hunting.

"Let's see." Sam hummed, opening his bag. "Oh, lovely." He held upa leaf wrapped wafer. "Lembas bread. And look…" He tone turned almost jokingly sarcastic. "…more lembas bread." He revealed a few more wafers inside the bag.

I smirked at him. "That's perfect." I replied. "Trust me Sam, those few wafers will be worth a thousand roast chickens and your wonderful box of salt." I looked around me. "Hunting won't be very good for some time, I expect. Too many rocks, not enough grass, smelly bog not far away. It'll be a stroke of luck if we find anything with a decent amount of meat on its bones in this labyrinth."

With that, Sam tore off three portions of lembas bread and we all slowly ate our meal. It still surprised me how something so small could fill my entire stomach. "I don't usually hold to foreign food, but this elvish stuff, it's not bad." Sam judged the provisions we had.

"Nothing ever dampens you spirits, does it Sam?" Frodo asked.

There was a low rumble of thunder. "Those rain clouds might." Sam sighed.

I knew it would not do well to have two drenched hobbits again, especially with spirits being as unsteady as they were at the moment. "It's evening anyhow so we may as well seek some cover." I said, optimism returning. A brief search revealed there were no caves, per say, but rather nooks and crannies in the rock that offered some cover from a shower of rain. The rain that evening was surprisingly dense. The hobbits and I were cramped together in our little sheltered place, trying to see through the rain.

"Can you make anything out?" Frodo asked me.

I squinted more, but saw nothing but rivlets of water streaming over stones. "No, I don't believe so…" I scanned the area.

Movement.

I saw some animal move out there in the pouring rain, quick and low to the ground. "Did you catch that?" I pointed in the direction of the creature. "I think it might have been an animal of some kind."

"I thought you said there was no game here."

"It's unlikely, but it's possible." I squinted more. I grabbed my sword from my belt. "Whatever it is, it's smaller than me…I'll go and see if I can hunt it down."

"Out in the rain?" Sam asked. "Are you sure Miss Fali?"

"A little rain would be worth the meat." I smiled. "You may have your roast chicken yet Samwise." I pulled on cloak and hood and was gone, climbing up the rocks where I had seen something moving.

The rock was slippery now, and I advanced slowly. The rain could not keep the growing stench of a nearby bog away, even now as it grew a little heavier still. I knelt low to the ground, and proceeded to examine every crack and furrow in the rocks where an animal may hide. Most surprisingly, whatever it was did no longer here, and did not care to shield itself from the rain.

I was confused, for the nearest way to escape me was up a rather steep hill of loose rubble. I could not think of an animal that would be able to escape up it in such a hurry. There was brief flash of lightning and rumble of thunder. I kept looking, but found nothing. Had I seen something at all? Or had I simply imagined it?

I looked through the dim night up the hill before me. Lightning flashed and for a second I saw _something_.

Something covered in mud, and with a sickly body. I did not see it for more than a second, in that flash of lightning, but what my eyes did catch were a pair of eyes looking back at me. The light had caught them most grotesquely, and they had only appeared to be two glowing white orbs within a dark skull.

My breath caught in my throat, a silent scream, as I took a hurried step back. Thunder rumbled again, and there was a second flash of lightning, but whatever had been sitting at the top of the hill was gone now.

I blinked, many times. What was that? Was it real? Was my mind beginning to tricks on me?

Paranoia took over my mind and I discarded my hunt, seeing as I could not find anything. I returned to Frodo and Sam, shrugging my shoulders.

But I could not shrug off the feeling that something was watching me now.


	21. Chapter 20 (A creature most foul)

"This is all looking strangely familiar." Sam said. "But then again, we've passed nothing but rocks and cliffs haven't we? So it's all bound to look a little similar." His confident tone dropped a little. "Still…" He spoke again. "That formation over there does look mighty familiar."

"Because we've been here before…" Frodo sighed. "We're going in circles." He shook his head. "C'mon, back to the top of a hill." He said, his voice not holding much spirit. "Let's see if we can find the trail again."

"This way." I said, nodding up the rocky hillside.

"What's that horrid stink?" Sam asked, as the wind blew a rather unpleasant odor in our direction. I cringed when I breathed it in, and wrinkled my nose at the stench of decaying mushrooms and fish. I had to cough to clear the fumes from my throat. "I wonder if there's a nasty bog nearby. Can you smell it?" Sam went on.

"Yes, I can smell it." Frodo replied.

"Awfully fishy for a bog…" I mused.

Frodo stopped in his tracks, and this forced me to stop as well. He gave Sam and I a serious look. "We're not alone."

I suddenly felt every hair on the back of my neck stand up and I recalled the ghostly eyes that had shone at me in the flash of lightening. Maybe I had not imagined anything…maybe there was something out there…I swallowed, and then found my voice again. "What is it?" I asked.

"I don't know." Frodo remarked. "But we're being followed through this maze."

"If it's close enough for us to smell it…" Sam said in hushed tones, implying for us to whisper.

"We must keep moving." I said, pushing my two hobbits ahead. "We can't stop on the path or it will suspect."

"What about when we stop in the evening?" Sam asked. "It's close now, Miss Fali. We can't rest with something that close to us."

"I know." I nodded.

"We will deal with it when we stop to rest." Frodo replied. "It will draw it near."

"In the dark?" Sam asked.

Frodo glanced back and nodded a little, apologetically.

Sam gave me one short, questioning glance before muttering "Oh dear."

/

There's no possible way that whoever is following is going to believe that we've stopped to sleep at the same time. And in the twilight.

It was my only thought as I lay huddled up beneath my cloak, eyes shut softly as if I were really sleeping. Whatever was following us would have to be dull, or very desperate, to believe such a thing. I only felt vulnerable, and exposed out in the open like this. If Sam's quiet shaking from beneath his own cloak was any indication, he was having similar feelings.

Be brave. I kept reminding myself of that, Boromir's voice echoing in my head. Be brave, keep Frodo and Sam safe. Be brave, Fali.

It had been easier to take to heart when he said the words to me himself.

I swallowed, hearing loose rock slip somewhere not very far away, and the stench of something rotting wafting down with the breeze.

I am brave, I whispered in my head, mentally giving myself a firm nod of the head. Let any dark thing with ghost eyes come.

No amount of encouragement could prepare me for what happened next.

It had a raspy, somewhat choked breath, that sounded like wheezing and like nails against stone.

And then it spoke.

"Thieves…you thieves!..."

I had not expected it to be capable of language. Language meant it was human, or somewhat human. I had been expecting an animal of sorts, and now I found that this was something far worse, something with the mind of man and all it's cunning, and something with the instinct and monstrosity of a beast.

"Filthy little thieves!" It's voice pitched higher, a demented snarl, half the cry of a man and half the growl of a creature, and altogether sounding as if the throat that bore that voice had not drank a drop of water in years.

Each sentence was uttered with hatred and conviction, and growing slowly in volume. "Where is it? Where is it? They stole it from us. My precious." I dared open my eyes, as narrowly as I could. Frodo was not flinching at all, though his heart must have been racing. He appeared to be asleep. I dared not roll over to see how Sam fared, the movement being too conspicuous now, even if I acted as though I was having a restless dream. Hopefully he was able to pass his sleeping off as natural still.

"Curse them! We hates them! It's ours it is…" He spoke of the Ring.

Gollum. I recalled his name being spoken by Gandalf. The previous owner of the Ring. A fair lot of good it did him. I was now even more glad that Frodo was to destroy that thing. It couldn't be trusted, no matter the circumstances.

The sound of his breathing was louder now, and I could feel his gaze on us from overhead.

"…and we wants it." He said in a low snarl.

"Now!" Frodo gave the command and Sam and I both flung our cloaks from our bodies, and leapt to our feet with him to grab hold of Gollum's wrists and pull him from the rock over us. The creature was so light the three of us together could fling him well over our heads and into the ground.

He was dazed for a moment, and then sprang up again, inhuman, growling, screaming.

A struggle ensued, in which Gollum was nothing but an angry, gremlin-like beast. He moved so quickly and in such a harshly agitated fashion that it was hard to keep your eye on him, and you only saw him when he charged at you, his attack forewarned with a shrill yell. One could only sense something primal and destructive, and at the same time very feeble, for he once tried to push me out of the way with little success, and a swift kick from my foot sent him rolling away as though he were made of dried leaves.

His skin certainly had that look about it, like ancient and delicate parchment.

Gollum did not appear at all human in his attacks. His speaking was reduced back to growls and shouts, his moves were too skittish and he crawled about on his hands and feet. He leapt upon Frodo, his hands digging into the fabric of his shirt, searching for the Ring. Frodo was knocked over by him and Gollum only began more desperate as the Ring happened to slip itself into view, a perfect greeting to its crazed prior owner.

Sam grabbed the creature back and I hurried to place myself between the two.

Gollum broke free of a Sam's grip and came rushing back. I stood, tall and fierce in comparison, and pulling my sword from my belt. I swept the blade threateningly close to him, and it would have cut him if he had not flattened himself closer to the ground, and scurried back on hands and knees, hissing at me. "Don't you even dare." I hissed right back.

Sam bravely tried to grab him again, but Gollum twisted in his grip and climbed over him, biting his shoulder. Sam yelled out in pain.

"Stop!" I shouted, and left Frodo's side to hurry over to Sam, my sword raised, though I could not strike, for Sam was turning about in circles as he tried to pry Gollum from his back, and I could not get a clear shot at him without the possibility of causing Sam great harm. "Get off him!"

Frodo got to his feet immediately and pulled out Sting, his own blade. I finally did the only thing I could do without injuring Sam and pushed both him and Gollum over. I prepared to hold him at sword point, when Frodo rushed forward and did this himself.

I almost didn't recognize Frodo in that moment, his whole aura had gone so dark, and for the first time in my life I heard a hobbit speaking in a menacing tone. With the blade pointed to Gollum's throat, he said lowly "This is Sting. You've seen it before…haven't you?...Gollum!"

"Yes." Gollum admitted, his voice dry and cracked.

"Release him, or I'll cut your throat." Frodo threatened.

"Frodo…?" I asked carefully. Speaking in harsh tones was one thing…threatening to kill something was another. Frodo would never do such a thing.

Nevertheless, Gollum did release poor Sam, who held onto his bitten shoulder.

Then the creature began to wail.

I rolled my eyes at him. If Sam's shoulder had not been bleeding I would have silenced him, for the sound was unpleasant to hear, and unlike the cry of an infant seeking aid, it only served to annoy me further. I felt no concern for the creature then.

I examined Sam's shoulder (luckily the bite was not deep, and I was able to quickly clean it out well), and Frodo searched through the bags we had until he found Sam's rope, and while Gollum was subdued in his personal tragedy he was able to tie the rope around his neck. "You're bringing him along?" Sam asked, shaking his head at the idea.

"We can't have him sneaking up on us again." Frodo explained. "Better we can keep an eye on him."

"We could just kill him." I brought up the notion.

"But he didn't try to kill us." Frodo protested.

"Speak for yourself." Sam said of his shoulder.

"Frodo, you said you were going to cut his throat a few minutes ago." I reminded him.

"That was only a threat." Frodo replied. "I wouldn't be able to really…" He went quiet.

"I could." I said.

"Please don't Fali."

I sighed. "Fine." I said. "I won't…not yet."

The rest of the night was passed in fitful sleep for us, and Gollum was tied up a fair distance from us. He moped through the majority of the night, curled up and facing away from us.

My agreement not to kill him then and there started to be tested the moment we set off again when the light was ample enough.

"It burns!" The anguished cry came from behind me. "It burns! It freezes!"

"How can it do both?" I sighed, asking the question to Sam, who appeared as unpleased with our new guest as I was. "I've met spoilt children who whined less than this."

"Take it off us!" Gollum demanded.

"Quiet you!" Sam snapped back, his patience run out already, not that I could blame him. "It's hopeless!" He was exasperated. "Every orc in Mordor will hear this racket. Let's just tie him up and leave him. He's doing nothing but slowing us down, Mister Frodo."

"No! That would kill us!"

"If it's the wailing you're concerned about, I could always cut out his tongue." I said, thinking of some way to stop the nuisance that Gollum was, without actually killing him as Frodo had asked. The suggestion was half hearted though, and the hobbits likely knew this. My tone was not serious and I had no desire to place my fingers anywhere near his mouth.

Gollum took me quite seriously though. "Noooo!" He wailed.

"It's no more than you deserve." Sam replied sternly.

"Maybe he does deserve to die." Frodo admitted. "But now that I see him, I do pity him."

Gollum ceased his display and looked up at Frodo in what closely resembled wonder, and disbelief.

Now that Gollum had been contained one could actually get a good look at him and his mortifying appearance. I had thought the body to be dark when I saw him in the rain, but he was as pale as marble, grey as dust, and as skinny as a twig. One could easily count the lines that were his ribs and the knobs of his spine. There was years of dirt and grime smeared into his flesh, caked into his nails, which had become sharpened somehow, a bit like claws. His teeth had all fallen out, except for a few sparse survivors that sat rotting away in his gums. He had a light array of extremely thin hair that did nothing to cover his head.

He was without any doubt the ugliest and sickliest thing I had ever laid eyes on.

But his eyes…watery and bloodshot as they were…were still human. There were in fact an incredibly bright shade of blue, which only served to stand awkwardly out with the rest of him. Human eyes that read of great sadness and torment. Eyes that had not seen the sun, and had only ever closed for restless sleep. Eyes that despite his behaviour were as wide, as frightened, and as trusting now as a child's.

If only I had not looked into the creature's eyes.

"We'll be nice to them, if they be nice to us." Gollum promised. "Take it off us." He tilted his head a degree, leaving the knot tied about his neck more exposed. We hesitated. "We swears to do what you wants, we swears." Gollum pleaded again, continuing to persuade us.

"There's no promise that you can make that I can trust." Frodo replied, his words serious, thankfully.

Gollum got up from writhing around pathetically on the ground to his knees so he could beg before Frodo. "We swears to serve the master of the precious." He looked up with wide eyes. "We swears on…on the precious!" He stressed. After he had said this however, his face crumpled a little and he coughed harshly, choking out the words "Gollum…Gollum."

"The Ring is treacherous." Frodo answered. "It will hold you to your word."

"Yes, on the precious…yes." Gollum replied, inching a bit closer.

"I don't believe you!" Sam blared suddenly. His outburst frightened Gollum, who scrambled to get away, as Sam raised his hand as if to strike him. He climbed up a large rock, but Sam pulled upon the rope, and he fell back down to the ground with a great thud.

I said nothing and did nothing, merely watching the scene play out. I did not know what to do about Gollum either. I wasn't very fond of the idea of him joining us, and some part of me didn't want to hurt him either, for he was so shriveled and pathetic already. If I was somehow able to cast him off a thousand miles away I would have done so.

Frodo reacted more instantly than I did. "Sam!" He cried out, stopping our friend from hurting Gollum any further.

"He's trying to trick us!" Sam protested. "We let him go, and he'll throttle us in our sleep!" He warned. "Just ask Fali!"

"Fali?" Frodo looked back at me. "What do you think?"

"I don't know what he'll do." I answered truthfully. "Bringing him along is useless unless it helps us someone. If he keeps on wailing it won't be worth it."

Gollum lay on the ground again, clutching at his throat and panting for breath. Frodo slowly approached him. "You know the way to Mordor?" He asked. "You've been there before, haven't you?"

"Yes." Gollum replied. "Yes."

Frodo surprised us all by removing the rope from Gollum's neck. Even the creature himself had a look of shock clear on his face. "You will take us to the Black Gate." Frodo said.

Another sudden change came over Gollum. He got up from his knees and went crawling and creeping off at a brisk pace, and we were forced to follow him. He kept muttering to himself. "To the gate…yes, yes…to the gate." Where he once been something I feared would strangle us if we stepped in between him and the Ring, he now seemed almost tame, or at the very least no longer dangerous. He reminded me of a dog, bounding, sniffing, circling back to its master, and then bounding off again.

Gollum's mumblings became harsher, and I raised my eyebrow. "No! Won't go back…" He rattled on to himself. I recalled that Gollum had been tortured in Mordor, and the small twang of pity I felt for him broadened a bit.

His agreement continued with himself, the words sometimes clear enough to be understood. "No, no, no…but we swore…they can't make us!...Great Eye watching…"

His internal struggle reached its pitch when he glanced back at us menacingly and screamed at us, before diving into the rocks, and disappearing. Any pity I felt for him quickly faded.

"Hey! Come back now!" Sam shouted after him. "What did I tell you? He's run off, the old villain. So much for his promises."

"I have to agree Frodo." I said, the emotional and moral swings of Gollum causing unease to form in me. "He likely doesn't understand what it means to swear something anymore. We can't take his word as we would with others."

"This way hobbitses!" Gollum's face poked out from behind the rocks suddenly as his mood shifted again. Now he appeared cheery and light hearted. "This way!" He called after us as he went off again. "Follow me!"

Frodo followed him. "He's our only hope if we wish to get out of this place." Frodo said. "I feel we don't have much time." He fumbled with his collar, and I knew it was only a last minute decision to not pluck at his first where the Ring lay. "For now, we must take his word and follow him."

We followed Gollum and watched as he ran around, muttering to himself, sometimes harshly sometimes with praise.

"I don't like this, Miss Fali." Sam whispered to me. "I don't like this at all."

"I'm not particularly fond of him either." I watched Gollum.

"Do you think he's leading us in the right direction?" Sam asked.

I glanced around me. "He could be. I don't recognize anything, so we've either stopping going about in circles or we're…"

"Even more horribly lost than before." Sam finished for me with a sigh. "Why do you think Frodo trusts him?"

"I don't know." I replied. I suspected it had to do something with the Ring, the two of them having been in ownership of the object, either before or right now. Perhaps it was not really Frodo that trusted Gollum, but rather the Ring itself. "But he is the Ring-bearer of this quest. The best thing we can do is let him lead us, hope that he is right, and be there if that is not the case."

Gollum came running back to us and circled around Sam and I. The hobbit pressed a little closer to me. When Gollum dashed off again, calling "Follow us, Master, follow us!", I turned back to him.

"If he comes too close to you, stick out your leg and give him a little kick."

 **Hoping I wrote Gollum well, he's surprisingly difficult to write. Next time: switch back to how Gideon's doing.**


	22. Chapter 21 (The death of hope)

I felt as though I turned into a lump of clay. Clay that someone had worked, worn thin, stretched, and poked and prodded and rolled beneath their hands, and kneaded deeply with their elbows.

And then left in the sun to dry rock hard.

I could not feel my legs, I could not feel my lungs…there were times I doubted I could even feel anything on my face.

Stiffness, and every muscle going languid with every pause for breath, and then throbbing with the heat of overuse and sometimes seizing up on me.

Oddly, after the first day the pain of it all numbed. By the second day it was more like a persistent discomfort. Now, on the third day tracking down our kidnapped friends, I was able to block any of the cramps from my mind, just as I had the nagging of my siblings when we were younger. Aragorn had ceased his light run, and lowered himself to the ground. We were now surrounded by rock, and the only green substances on this side of the ridges were lichen and moss.

These obstacles did not deter Aragorn. He knelt down to a bare space of rock and pressed his ear against the earth. I did not question it. I knew little of tracking, apart from the immediately visible tracks of animals. I took this moment to catch my breath, body bending over in half and my hands keeping me upright by holding my knees and propping me somewhat upright.

"Can you hear anything?" I asked.

Aragorn hushed me quietly, and held a hand up, his ear still fixed to the ground.

I was quiet and looked behind me to Legolas who followed closely behind. Gimli was a few paces more behind him. The long treks and rationed food had not suited him quite well either. Unlike myself he sometimes complained of it, though we were in too much of a hurry to listen to him.

"Their pace has quickened." Aragorn suddenly lifted his head again. "They must have caught our scent."

"How did you-?" I began to ask how he gathered all that from a rock, but there was no time. Aragorn began to run again, this time much faster, for we were closing in at last.

"Hurry!" He called after me.

The elf stopped for a split second at my side. "Come on, Gimli!" He called back to the dwarf, who appeared just over the hill behind us. He followed Aragorn, glancing back to call out "Hurry, Gideon!"

Gimli approached me, his appearance more haggard from his extensive exercise. His face was covered in a sheen of sweat that traveled down into his beard, and his breathing was more laboured.

"Three day's and night's pursuit… no food, no rest, and no sign of our quarry but what bare rock can tell." He said to me.

"Amazing we've been able to catch up, isn't it?" I asked, a bit breathless myself. A very good description of the last three days for the journal I still had tucked away in the corner of my bag.

"Well, come on then." Gimli swatted me over my shoulder and the two of us were off behind Aragorn and Legolas. "We can't fall behind now."

The two ahead of us had paused and Aragorn retrieved something from the ground that I could not make out. Whatever he found, it only made him run faster, so it must have meant good news, which after three days of running was very welcome.

"Come, Gimli!" Legolas called again. "We are gaining on them."

"I'm wasted on cross-country." Gimli shouted back. "We dwarves are natural sprinters…very dangerous over short distances."

"If I didn't know any better…" I smirked at the thought. "I'd say you two were almost becoming friends now." Merry and Pippin's situation had brought them to an even ground. Legolas had even ceased his occasional harsh look at me…though I still believed I reminded him of another dwarven prince he had not yet forgiven. Sixty years was a good part of a life time for dwarf-kind but to elves it probably felt like the blink of an eye.

The rocks stopped suddenly and gave way to a valley that dropped low and covered in grass that shone with the sun as the wind blew down on it.

"Where are we now?" I asked.

"Rohan, home of the horse-lords."

"Oh." I said. People lived here, that was a good sign at least. "Are we welcome here?"

Aragorn did not answer me. "There's something strange at work here. Some evil gives speed to these creatures, sets its will against us." That did not sound promising.

"I'm sure we won't be too bothersome for the villagers…" I answered my own question. "The valley stretches out far…do you think we can see them from here? Or that they may be able to see us?" The latter option was an uncomfortable one.

"Legolas, can you see anything?" Aragorn asked.

"The Uruks turn northeast, they are taking the hobbits to Isengard!"

"Saurman." Aragorn said, under his breath. "Come on, we must hurry."

When would the running and hurrying ever cease? "Keep your breath, Master Gideon, you will need it." Aragorn reminded me, and I tried to steady my breathing.

"Yes." I nodded.

In another moment I could feel excursion straining my features. Aragorn tried to keep me speaking, to encourage me to breath more. He asked of Erebor and of my mother and father's adventure. Fali had probably informed him well on the subject of both but he asked anyway.

I did not want to speak of either. Erebor and my family were too dear to my heart and it wouldn't do me any good to remember them now, so far away and unattainable. I did follow his prompts to speak however. "What are Uruks?" I asked. "I keep hearing you and Legolas speak of them, and yet I've never heard of such a thing. I've read of how orcs were made, and how they used to be elves once, long ago."

"No, you would not have read of them. They are a new and vile breed of orc." He looked at me for a moment as we rushed down into the valley. "Stronger, faster, more deadly than their predecessors."

"That explains how they out ran us in so short a time." I replied, almost laughing.

Aragorn smirked a bit at me. "Keep your breath Master Gideon." He reminded me, light in tone.

The journey continued until there was no light left for us to see by. Gimli was quick to start a fire. Legolas took his bow and went out to hunt, his hearing enough to make his arrows meet their mark. I took a length of rope and set up a snare in case there was no game for even an elf to find. My hands knew how to tie the knots even in the dark.

Aragorn examined the ground while we went about our duties, examining it for any last traces of Merry and Pippin. He pressed his ear to the ground again, and got up again looking satisfied with the result. Wherever those two hobbits were, they must have been safe.

I ventured a little farther out from the light of our fire to tie up a second snare. As I turned to go back to the little camp we had made I stumbled over a rock in the earth. I stared down at it for a moment and wondered what Aragorn could have heard. The idea of hearing anything from a stone in the ground was obscure.

Curiosity won out, seeing as I was by myself. I got on my knees and pressed my ear to the cool ground. I strained to hear something, closing my eyes to shut out the far off flicker of the fire, and steadying my breathing.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The earth was silent to me. Was it supposed to be silent now? Was that what Aragorn had hoped to hear when he did this? Really, it was as if nothing was moving in all the valley…

"What are you doing?"

My eyes flashed open and in the dimness of the moonlight I saw Legolas staring down at me, confused with my actions. I sat up immediately. "I was…" It seemed so stupid to admit it. "I was…" I tried again, but the words failed me once more.

I could hear Fali saying "Go on…go on Gideon…" in the back of my head, and Vesper shouting "Out with it, already!"

"How do you think he does that?" I asked, my question giving a clear enough hint as to what I had been doing. "Put his ear to the ground and suddenly knows where everyone is, just like that?"

"He learned it among the Rangers." Legolas answered, matter-of-factly.

"Ah." I nodded. "And…and what are you doing out here then?"

Legolas held up some sort of groundling with a dusty grey pelt, shot neatly in the back of the neck.

"Hunting, yes…of course." I rambled out phrases. "Of cour-"

"What are you doing out here?" Legolas asked, cutting my words short (which I was almost thankful for).

"Snares." I replied, quickly.

"And have you finished them?"

"Yes." I stared at the groundling with the hole in its neck. It was incredible that he had managed to shoot something so small in the dark, and right on the mark too. I finally got up from my spot on the ground.

"Do you plan to hunt as well?" He asked.

"No." I shook my head. "Snares are where I hunt best, something like archery, was more the forte of my cousins."

He said nothing for a second. I grimaced, the image of my uncle and aunt, and part-elven cousins looming over us for a second. For the first time in days Legolas's face stiffened a little. In the dim light I imagined I looked my uncle had in younger years to him. I wished more than anything to have been born with blond hair like my siblings, to look like the rest of my family.

"You should return to the others." Legolas said. "Go now, before you lose sight of the fire."

"I…" An apology lived for a fleeting second in my throat and died there promptly. What was I even trying to apologize for? For a slip of the tongue or for something that happened before I was even born, or for the simple unfair nature of the world?

He glanced back at me. "I will." I nodded.

I turned the other way instantly and began to walk directly to the fire ahead of me. Curse my wooden tongue, curse my mind that stopped working the moment I was in some mess big or small. Curse it being the smaller messes that made me look like a fool.

I burst into camp, looking like I was set on marching toward Isengard to rescue Merry and Pippin right now. "Master Gideon?" Aragorn looked over at me.

"It is nothing." I answered, and smiled a little to put his mind at ease. "I am only tired."

"That he would be." Gimli nodded. "The lad stayed ahead of me the better part of the day…and I was not running slowly either, mind you."

I lay down on my bedroll, as the two talked on. The next morning could not come fast enough.

/

I ran faster than I had the days before, if anything to avoid having to look at Legolas throughout the whole day. Cowardly as that was, I found I was able to trick my body into doing it. I was able to watch as the light spilt slowly over the horizon, filling the world ahead of me in a sharp, orange glow. The early dawn was always refreshing, a good reminder that I had managed yet another day (not without troubles, but the basic goal of survival had been met, and that was all that truly mattered).

I found myself beside Aragorn mostly, who seemed quite impressed with my newfound ability to keep up from the very start of the day. "It looks as if you are finally finding your bearings out here." He said.

"For now." I nodded, happy to see him impressed, and not promising for it to last.

"A red sun rises…blood has been spilt this night." Legolas announced as the sun, indeed very red, rose over the landscape behind us.

I frowned. "That is just a myth, isn't it?" I asked Aragorn.

His face was grim.

"Well…it could be anyone's blood, couldn't it?..." I asked again, to which there was still no reply. "Aragorn…?"

"Do not worry yourself yet, Master Gideon." Aragorn told me. My head soon began swimming with the idea of who could have died in the night. Merry and Pippin? Our journey would now be for nothing. Frodo? We were all doomed. Fali?

I would never be able to go home and face my parents with that dreadful news.

I shook my head. No, no. I could not allow myself to think like this. Not when we were drawing even closer to the hobbits. Fali was too stubborn to die this suddenly anyhow, I remarked internally. I clutched at the otter shaped pendant around my neck. No, not Fali. I would know if it were Fali.

The earth began to thunder then. Aragorn grabbed me by my sleeve and then hurried me over to a nook in the rocks. The thunder rolled closer and then I understood it to not be thunder but the sound of horses running in unison.

And horses meant riders.

Gimli and Legolas were quick to join us out of sight, and Aragorn looked over the edge of the rock to see if friend or foe was approaching. I rose a little to do the same. A cavalry of fine horses was racing past us. Men sat upon them, in armour, and with weapons and shields tied to their saddles. The men of Rohan.

"Riders of Rohan!" A small jolt went through me as Aragorn emerged from our hiding place and spoke to them. Were we not supposed to be hiding. "What news from the Mark?" The others followed him, and I

At the sound of his voice, one of the riders gave a small signal, and then the whole cavalry quickly turned and came toward us. We were encircled, and I then realised just how tall a fully grown man on a horse is compared to someone of my size. I was beginning to think I should have stayed hidden, for each rider had a pair of hard, steeled eyes under the rims of their helmets, and it felt like they were casting daggers down at you by simply staring.

A moment later, when every exit from the tight circle was blocked by the legs of horses, the real daggers were pulled out, as each man pointed a spear into the circle. Yes, we should have all stayed hidden. The blood drained from my face and I stood, small and pale before them, backed into the sides of my friends by the spear ends.

"What business does an elf, a man and dwarves have in the Riddermark?" The same rider who had given the signal came forward. His eyes were darker than the rest, his face harder. The captain no doubt. Naturally, I could not find any words. "Speak quickly!" The captain commanded us.

"Give me your name horse-master, and I shall give you mine." Gimli replied.

I stared at Gimli, wide eyed. Now was not the time to worry over formalities.

If it were even possible the man's eyes went even darker as he got down from his horse. Aragorn reached past me to place a hand on Gimli's shoulder, to protect, or maybe to even restrain him.

"I would cut off your head , dwarf" The last word being almost spit out as a sort of insult."… if it stood but a little higher from the ground." For once I felt a spark of some of my own dwarven pigheadedness coming forward, not taking kindly to the comment. The spears around me kept it subdued though.

"You would die before your stroke fell!" Legolas snapped back, quickly notching an arrow and taking aim at the captain. I felt myself becoming even smaller and paler.

Aragorn was quick to intervene before it all escalated past an irreversible point. He lowered Legolas's arm himself, and calmly spoke. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn." Then he quickly introduced the rest of us. "We are friends of Rohan and of Theoden, your king." A sharp knot in my chest that had been tightening throughout this ordeal finally released some of its tension.

"Theoden no longer recognizes friend from foe…" The captain apologized, removing his helmet. "Not even in his own kin. Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over this land. My company are those loyal to Rohan. And for that, we are banished." He looked at us seriously. "The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there they say, as an old man, hooded and cloaked. They say his spies are everywhere as well…"

"We are not his spies." I shook my head, words returning to me now.

"We track a band of Uruk-hai westward across the plains." Aragorn informed him. "They have taken two of our friends captive."

"We destroyed the Uruks you are tracking." The captain said. "They were slaughtered in the night."

"All of them?" I asked, surprised.

"But there were two hobbits with them! Did you see any hobbits?" Gimli asked.

"They would be small, only children to your eyes." Aragorn went on.

The captain's eyes dropped to the ground, sincerely apologetic. "We left none alive."

"Dead?" Gimli gasped.

Merry and Pippin…I remembered them only for the tricks they pulled and the mischief they found themselves in, but now I found myself thinking of their friendship, and joy, and how pitifully young they were. The red sun had risen this morning, an omen to tell us of this news it seemed.

"We piled the carcasses and burned them." The captain pointed into the distance where a trail of smoke could be seen rising into the sky. "I am sorry." He whistled and called, and two horses without riders came forth obediently. "May these horses bear you to better fortune than the former masters. Farewell." He mounted his horse again. "Look for your friends, but do not trust any hope. It has forsaken these lands. We ride north."

They left, thundering hooves accompanying their departure.

Our gaze was transfixed upon the smoke. Aragorn took the reins of the two horses. "Come." He said, and the four of us mounted and went off, thankful we had horses to carry us now. Loss had rendered me quite incapable of moving my own legs. There was the bleakest of hopes in my chest, praying for those two young hobbits to be alive still.

At first the burning mount looked like a great, smoking, pile of pitch in the distance, but as we drew near you could see the arms and legs and faces. It was undeniably clear that it was made of burning bodies. And if you thought your eyes were deceiving you, your nose surely wasn't. The smell was inescapable and terrible enough to choke you.

I had to keep my gaze down to stop meeting the dead eyes of an orc's head impaled on a stick.

Gimli began to rummage through the pile with Aragorn, though I did not dare take another step toward it. It was overwhelming, the thoughts of Merry and Pippin, the stench, the sight…I had to keep chanting in my head "I will not be ill…I will not be ill…"

Gimli returned a moment later, his hand shaking. "It's one of their little belts.." He held up a charred elfin belt, from their gifts by the Lady Galadriel

Mahal. The reality struck suddenly and horrifically. Merry and Pippin were in that awful mess, buried in that heap with the rest of them. I kept trying to chant within my head, now more desperate. "I will not be ill…I will not be ill…I will-"

I was quite ill. Each chant was said with a great breathe that only took in more and more of the toxic smell of death and burnt flesh. My stomach could not take it and I found myself emptying out its contents behind a rock a moment later.

Aragorn yelled out in grief and frustration. We had found them, and we had been too late.

The rider had been right. We could not trust any hope.


	23. Chapter 22 (Hope and luck)

Everything about this moment was vile. The smell in the air, the feeling of loss and failure in my chest, the horrid taste in my mouth from when I had been sick to my stomach by the whole thing a minute ago. The silence that stretched out after Aragorn's pained, frustrated yell. There was nothing I could do. Nothing that any of us could do.

I was glad Fali was not here to see this. She had taken to Merry and Pippin when they were children. Whilst others found them a bother, she had always thought them amusing and adored their uncanny ability of getting themselves into trouble. She loved the mischief in their eyes.

They had stayed that way until the end it seemed…they had got themselves into trouble one last time…but this time they had not managed to escape it just in time, the way they always had before. There was no narrow and lucky avoidance of punishment for them this time. This time consequences had followed them, and had been far from merciful.

There had been plenty of times I had rolled my eyes at how they escaped justice, but now I could only lower my eyes to the ground and feel a great sadness well up inside me. I felt so sorry for them both.

I closed my eyes, shutting everything out. I could not cope with everyone else's grief along with my own. When my mind at last went blank I was at last able to sort through everything.

Gandalf had been lost in Moria. Yet, I lived.

Boromir had been lost on the along the shore of the river. Yet, I lived.

Merry and Pippin had been lost on the edges of Rohan. Yet, I lived.

I felt so relieved to be alive, and so grieved for those who weren't…and ashamed, for living when they died. What made me any more valuable than them?

I clutched at the otter. Mother had given it to me as my symbol when I was born. In the nymphian culture it stood for good fortune. That was why I was still alive…good fortune. It was probably the reason why Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas were still alive as well, the odds against us being as harsh as they were.

I opened my eyes again. The three men stood beside themselves, each taking the loss of the hobbits privately. I walked up to the burning pile of bodies, my eyes avoiding those of the decapitated orc still, and took a fistful of ashes from the ground. There was no way to tell if they were Merry's and Pippin's but I did not have the heart to search deeper into the pile. I muttered quietly a prayer for them, the one that Mother had taught my siblings and I, and released the ash to the wind.

The old practise relieved me a little.

"We failed them." Gimli sighed, grieved.

"We tried." I reminded him. I turned to Aragorn and touched his shoulder. "Aragorn, perhaps it's best we move on from here."

"To where?" Gimli asked.

"Anywhere else." I sighed. "There is no use staying here much longer."

"A hobbit lay here, and the other." Aragorn's attention was fixed on the ground.

I saw the flattened grass where he stared, pressed down like when a deer sleeps in a meadow. They died there, I thought, grimly.

"They crawled." Aragorn's word interrupted the thought. I stood, my heart surging with hope again as the Ranger followed the tracks on the ground. They moved, and hence they were alive. My mind tried to be reasonable. The captain of the horse-lords had said they left none alive. Merry and Pippin would have tried to escape, surely, but the chances of them managing to do so?

"Their hands were bound…" Aragorn traveled along the ground, following the trail of the hobbits. He stopped, and grabbed an fraying piece of rope. "Their bonds were cut." He announced.

It returned, as sudden as one of Master Gandalf's great fireworks.

Hope.

Merry and Pippin's luck had not stopped after all! If they had managed to cut their bonds and get up from the ground…and with just enough of a fray, and a cover of darkness…it burst and burned. Hope. Luck. So long as we had those, it was enough.

"There ran this way…and they were followed." He stopped at last, and exclaimed "The tracks lead away from the battle! They escaped into Fangorn Forest."

"Fangorn?" Gimli asked in surprise. "What madness drove them there?"

I stared up at the very dense forest in front of us. I smiled, and actually let out a single chuff of laughter. Oh hope…oh sheer luck…such uplifting things! I would have to blindly trust the hope I now had for their lives but so be it. I would do so.

"Merry and Pippin are the maddest hobbits alive!" I grinned. "And the very luckiest…it seems they have kept up their talent for escaping trouble against all odds." I prepared to run straight into the wood. "Come on, let's hunt them down, they're likely hiding somewhere in there."

Gimli took hold of my shoulder and wrenched me back. "Now wait a minute there lad…Fangorn is not the sort of forest you run into without a care in the world."

I stared back at it for a moment, and felt an eerie feeling come over me. Inside Fangorn forest the trees were tall and ancient, and the paths in shadows, for the canopy was so dense. I swallowed, a gust of air carrying to my ears the sounds of creaking limbs, though I could see nothing moving.

"Gideon is right." Aragorn said. "We have come too far to forsake the hobbits now." He pulled the blade that had once been broken from his scabbard. "Be armed, we do not know what awaits us among the trees."

He took the first brave step onto Fangorn's soil. Legolas and Gimli took out their own weapons and followed him. I took a steadying breath. Hope and luck….hope and luck…it was all I needed, I reminded myself. I collected the remains of my moment of bravado, pulled out my own blade and entered the shade of the forest.

It smelled like earth and moss and rain. Quite pleasant actually, and if the shade from the canopy had not been so great, and a bit more light was able to slip past the leaves, I would have liked to sit along the roots and write more in the old journal I had brought along. The occasional creaking sound echoed from within the forest, and I tried to ignore it. It was so odd, the wind was not enough to stir the branches and yet the forest creaked and moaned at times like it was in a gale.

I left the tracking of Merry and Pippin to Aragorn. Though I had been told no orc was left alive, I had also been informed that the hobbits were killed as well, and that had not been true. Gimli found orc blood on foliage a moment later, which only proved my theory that it was best to stay quiet. "The air is too close here…" Gimli said.

"This forest is old…very old…full of memory and anger."

"Anger?" I asked. All that I knew of Fangorn came from myth. To me it had been but a name in texts. It was said the Valar Yvannah had walked here many a time in the beginning of the world, here was where she brought life and crafted the trees. From what I knew she was a gentle soul, and the place of her creation would have been on as well. Some tree groaned from far away again.

I sighed, shifting my fingers along the hilt of my blade. "It does sound as though it's upset." I spoke softly. "I've never heard trees creek and groan in so little wind before."

"They are speaking to one another." Legolas informed me.

"It sounds like it." I nodded.

"Gimli, lower your axe." Aragorn told the dwarf behind us, who was looking quite spooked by our surroundings. He did so, realising just as close his blade was to the bark of a tree. Surprisingly, the creeking of branches quieted after.

"Odd, that it should grow softer when his axe is lowered." I speculated.

"It would, they are alive." Legolas explained.

For a moment I was confused as I knew trees to be alive. But then when the soft creaks and whispers returned I understood that somehow these trees, ancient and touched by the Valar, were living, like people or animals.

I found the fact that they could be alive and speak to one another amazing, and felt a near boyish desire to go up and start speaking to one of the trees and listen if they should creak back at me. Smirking, I thought of how jealous Fali would be to hear that she had missed the chance to walk in a forest of living trees.

Fali, I hoped she was faring as well as I was. Likely, she was doing better.

Legolas spoke in elvish suddenly. I did not make out the words, but the tone of them was enough for me to understand. An alarm was being sounded, and something out there.

"What is it?" I asked, as Aragorn asked the same likely, his words in elvish.

"The White Wizard approaches." Legolas warned us.

"Do not let him speak!" Gimli whispered hurriedly.

"Yes" Aragorn nodded. "He will try to put a spell on us."

There was a tense moment in which Gimli gripped his axe and Aragorn's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. Legolas's fingers drifted to his quiver, silently pulling out and arrow and fitting it to his bow. I was already holding fast to my blade. "Where?" I asked, in a voice barely above a whisper. "Does he know we are here?"

"Yes." Aragorn nodded. "I sense him now."

I tried to feel whatever it was in the air that told them the White Wizard could see us, but felt nothing. I did not know what to look for. I felt fear snaking it's way into me, it's claws gripping onto my heart. For a moment it was dreadful, feeling that sinking feeling that this could be it. The time when luck abandons you and your hope stops.

"We must be quick." Aragorn said, giving us a serious, determined look. I could his face well enough to determine what he wanted us to do. Turn to face the wizard and attack first. I swallowed, nerves starting play their usual role.

Before I could voice any protest or concern the three of them turned on their heels. White light burst before my eyes and I was blinded. My eyes narrowed to slits and I held up my sword defensively. I heard Legolas's arrow being knocked aside, and the hiss of hot metal, which was followed by a sound of pain from Aragorn. Had he been burned? By his own sword? The work of magic, I concluded. I swung out my own blade, though I did not clearly know in which direction with so much light in my eyes. I was cast from my hands, feeling as though it had been pulled by an unseen force.

Without a weapon I got down on my knees. Lower to the ground the light was not so intense and I managed to see past the source of the light. The wizard spoke then, asking if we were tracking two hobbits. The voice was unfamiliar at first.

"Where are they?" Aragorn demanded. The light began to dim and I could just make out the face of the wizard from my lowered place. It was not what I had expected. The lines of his face were softer…and grandfatherly almost.

"They passed this way the day before yesterday." The wizard spoke. "Does that comfort you?"

The words were spoken in a comforting way, not a taunting way like an evil-doer would have done. The light dimmed a degree more and I lost my breath when I say the face.

"Show yourself!" Aragorn commanded.

He was different now. Younger looking almost, though certainly still old. But many of the wrinkles had smoothed out a little and the darker spots on his face from aging had been washed away. His eyes had a new brightness to him. His hair had straightened itself out.

And everything about him was white now, from his robes to his beard.

I was first to see him, as he dimmed the light, first to smile, first to rise and look at him in awe. "Gandalf?" I asked. I did not know how such a thing could be true. Was I dreaming? Had this whole day thus far been the creation of my mind as I slept? Legolas was able to remember formalities where I did not, respectfully lowering himself to bended knee, and Gimli was quick to follow his example.

"It cannot be." Aragorn breathed. He too, was so surprised that he forgot respectful actions.

"I am sorry." Legolas admitted from behind us. "I mistook you for Sauron."

"Why? How?" I stuttered, trying to make sense of Gandalf before us, and so rejuvenated.

"I am Sarumon." Gandalf said, to which we raised our eyebrows. "Or rather Sarumon as he should have been."

"You fell!" Aragorn reminded him, his statement demanding a better explanation.

"Through fire…and water…" Gandalf's recollected. ""From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought him, the Balrog of Morgoth."

"And you won?" I grinned, coming closer.

"I did. I threw down my enemy, and smote his ruin on the mountainside." He answered with a kind look. "But darkness took me….I was lost to thought and time." His smile waned momentarily. "But it was not the end. I felt light in me again. I've been sent back until my task is done."

"You are reincarnate?" I questioned. If that was the case than this was not Gandalf the Grey as we had known him. This was his soul, his memories…now encased in a new body. The same…yet different.

He nodded.

"Gandalf." Aragorn smiled at last, welcoming our friend.

"Yes, Gandalf. That is what they once called me." He smiled.

"And we will certainly call you again." I replied. "Gandalf the Gr-" I stopped short.

He smirked. "I am Gandalf the White." He corrected gently.

Finally I broke forward and embraced the wizard, too which he seemed surprised, but nevertheless I felt his hands on the back of my shoulders also.

"Come." He motioned to all of us. "We must be going, there is much that needs our attention."

"Are we going to find Merry and Pippin?" I asked.

"Hmm?" Gandalf glanced down at me as we walked our way back through Fangorn. "Oh no. Merry and Pippin are now in the protection of the Ents, the forest shepherds. I assure you that those two are safe. More safe than we shall soon be in fact…"

I frowned. "Where are we going then?"

"Edoras." Gandalf nodded, as he pulled on a grey garb to cover his white robes. "War is coming to Rohan. We must ride with all speed."

"Edoras!" Gimili exclaimed beside me. "That will be no short distance."

"Be thankful we were given the horses." I reminded him. "And that we are in the company of people tall enough to ride them." At this Gimli grumbled a little more.

"So long as we get out of this dark, dank, tree-infested…." At which there was much groaning and obvious protest from the roots and branches. "I mean…" Gimli stuttered quickly. "I mean charming, quite charming, forest." I smirked.

"See? He has grown to like you." I whispered to one tree as we paced and I could have sworn the creaking that followed almost sounded like laughter.

We reached the edge of Fangorn again, where the two horses waited for us. I gave them an apologetic look as it was probably burden enough to carry two people each. Gandalf whistled into the distance. Our collective gaze was directed over the hills. A horse, white as his robes, came running from out in the distance. Legolas claimed it to be one of the Mearas.

"Shadowfax." Gandalf held out his palm to the horse, and it came to him obediently. "He is lord of all horses, and has been my friend through many dangers." He introduced us.

With three steeds now, we mounted and were riding over the plains. I soon grew used to the quick motion of riding on horseback, sitting behind Aragorn. It was rather peaceful with nothing but wind and motion and the sound of hooves beating steadily on the earth.

The day ended, the grass soaking in the orange glow of dusk. Gandalf said we should stop, for the horses needed rest, as did we. As soon as all the usual matters of setting up camp were seen to, I picked up some rope and began to make my way over to a tiny ravine flanked by bushes, where I suspected there to be some game fit to eat.

"Setting up snares again, Master Gideon?" Aragorn asked me. For the first time in days he looked relaxed, even smoking on a pipe a little.

"Yes." I nodded. "I won't be long."

"I'll come with you." He said, and rose and followed me down to the ravine, the two of us walking quietly along the way. I tied up snares along the shrubbery, Aragorn watching and finishing his dose of pipe weed, and then rose and turned to go back. "Wait…" Aragorn held up a hand and I paused.

"Yes?" I asked. "What is it?"

"Draw your sword." He said, drawing out his own.

"What? Why?"

"We're going to spar."

"Here? Now?"

"Yes."

"But why?"

"You have much learning to do yet. And with war following us to Edoras I would rather you learn before and not during the fighting." I was still. "Draw your sword, Gideon." He prompted me again.

I did, and stood before him.

"Your grip is fine." He glanced at my hold. "That is good. Now your stance." I step my feet in the ground and held my blade ready. "Also good." He nodded. "Now begin."

I did not flinch or move, still standing prepared. After a few breaths Aragorn swung his blade striking close, but my stance allowing me to block him. "You did not attack." He pointed out.

"You didn't say to." I replied, sliding out of the block and moving away from him safely.

"I gave you the chance." There was another clash as our blades met in another block.

"Oh."

"Why did you not take it?"

"I assumed you would begin it all."

"When a chance arises it is best you take it." Aragorn swung again and I defended myself. "The one who attacks first is quick to gain an advantage." He swung once more, this time his blade turning so quickly in the air that I could not block it. Miraculously, he brought the metal within an inch of my clothes and stopped it there. The sword would have cut me in between two of my ribs. "Your defense is very good though." He said, drawing back and standing ready.

"How did you do that?" I asked. "I was sure you were going to cut across my leg."

"You will learn that eventually." Aragorn waved it aside. "Now stand ready…" I did . "Now we begin again." He said.

I remembered his words and stepped forward to try and strike at him. Aragorn caught my blade and cast me back. I quickly brought my sword up in time to stop his own attack. "You were slow." He said. Our blades collided in a few quick strikes before he caught me again, this time his sword stopping short of my back. "You need to move quickly, and surely." He stood again. "Stand ready."

I sighed, standing ready. This was like sparring with my brothers and Fali.

"Now begin." I charged quickly forward, and so did he. This caused me to soon fumble as I had not anticipated for him to come so quickly at me. My blade was taken from my hands and the sword once broken was pointed at my throat.

I was starting to prefer the blade as it had been, in shards.

"You were not ready for that." He observed. He drew back once more. "Now stand."

"How long are we going to keep this up?" I stood.

"Until I think you are ready."

"We do not have enough daylight left for that." I said.

"Yes, which is why this must become a daily ritual."

"Every day?" My stance dropped.

"You will thank me for it one day." He nodded. "Now stand."

I took up a ready stance once more. "Begin." Aragorn commanded.

I rushed forward, and met him this time. There was the soft clang of metal again and again as I fought to meet him strike for strike. The spar ended when he his onslaught become more aggressive, and his blade pointed at my stomach.

"You lose your focus when you feel threatened." He noted. "Still…a remarkable defense." He stood back, ready to spar again. "I wonder how you obtained such a skill."

"Luck, I suppose." I answered, and prepared to fight him again.


	24. Chapter 23 (Dead Marsh)

Traveling with Gollum yielded good results. I almost wished that it didn't but the creature did know his way around these lands, and successfully guided us out of the rocky labyrinth and onward to Mordor. Having him around us was still unsettling for Sam and I. It made me restless at night to hear him get up and star walking around, and wander off only come back a moment later, muttering things to himself again.

That seemed to be persistent habit of Gollum's. He was never silent, he was always muttering or whimpering to himself, and if he was not speaking under his breath he was breathing in a raspy, dried out fashion. The noise was now stuck in the back of my head, and while daylight seemed to draw it away from my worries, in the night it only put me on edge, and made it harder to close my eyes.

Gollum bounded past me then, seeking the front of our tiny caravan. He paused, and turned to look back at me. I glared at him. He was starting to become…friendlier…with Sam and I, but we were in no rush become as good to him as Frodo was. To us he was simply a guide. A very bothersome and creepy manifestation of a map and compass. At my glare Gollum hurried away, seeing I was in no mood to befriend him yet.

"I hope you'll forgive me for bringing him along." Frodo appeared at my side. "I know you and Sam wanted nothing more to do with him, and that you're uncomfortable having him around us, especially at night." He glanced up at me. "But he's been good to us. We're not lost anymore,, thanks to him."

"Aye." I nodded. "For that I suppose I should be thankful." I shook my head. "I still don't like it Frodo."

"He has not tried to hurt us."

"Not yet." I forewarned. "But surely you hear how he whispers to himself constantly. It doesn't do any good to have all that madness crammed into one head."

"We can trust him." Frodo assured me. "He has proven himself this far."

"As have you." I smiled. "With each step you're getting farther and farther away from Hobbiton and Bag End, and you've coped with everything wonderfully."

"Only because I have you and Sam by my side." He replied. "I wouldn't have made it very far without you two." He smirked. "Out of all of us, I think it is you who is faring the best. You look like you're living every childhood dream you ever had."

I grinned, for the new landscapes and unknown trails were thrilling. I loved the drills I practised each night with my sword and the warm, gently radiating heat of the fire at night. I would have quite a few tales to tell when I got home.

Home. I thought of Gideon, on his return to Erebor, and gripped the silver bear pendant around my neck. He had done so well, but he had not wanted to take part in this quest. He had done it for our family's honor. He did not complain of it outwardly, but I knew now he must have hated it. He disliked sparring, he did not wish to harm or kill anything, and he felt so insignificant around rangers like Aragorn and warriors like Gimli.

But he had lived through many things since the Shire, and could now go home with his head held proudly high.

Yes, Gideon had done his part.

Now I had to finish mine.

"See! See!" Gollum cried out excitedly, as we finally entered a flat stretch of land. "We've led you out!" It was beginning to get strange…the way Gollum always referred to himself in the plural sense. "Hurry, hurry…very lucky we found you." He went on chatting.

We paused to look at the boggy landscape, and breath in a damp, decaying smell that was part of it. Gollum cowered as Sam neared him, muttering "Nice Hobbit, good Hobbit." Sam had followed my instruction to try and kick the creature if he came too close, and Gollum had become wary of it.

"C'mon." I said, pulling them both Frodo and Sam along. "This is the next leg of the journey, that's all." I looked down into the puddles of murky, greenish water. Exciting as new places were I had been hoping for sights a bit more…glamorous, I suppose. At least something prettier to look at than a decomposing bog.

Sam stepped on a patch of floating moss he mistook as land and soaked his shoe. "Whoa!" He cried out in surprise. "It's a swamp!"

"Yes, yes…swamp it is…hurry, hurry and follow us through the mist…safe paths through the mist." Gollum spoke.

"Never mind what he says, Sam. Just follow him." I gave him a gentle squeeze of the shoulder, and he went on.

The mist kept us well hidden in it's shroud and I felt surprisingly safe. No one could see us, or find us in this. Not orcs or trolls or Balrogs. Sam probably thought the opposite, that it was too quiet and still, and something was likely to pop out of the fog.

"It's too quiet here." My suspicions were proved when we rested that day. "There's no sound, no birds."

"Yes, no birdses." Gollum nodded. "Famished, we are."

"The swamp will end soon." I tried to lift Sam and Frodo's spirits quickly. "Besides, we have the elven bread to keep us through days like these."

"How long do you think it will last?" Frodo asked.

"Long enough." I brushed away the concerns. "We won't go stuffing ourselves on it like Pippin did. And if there's anything that can be hunted down here I'll find it." I didn't voice my opinion that there was nothing here but lizards and spiders and other such things.

Gollum mumbled on about being hungry. Frodo eventually gave in and tore a little piece of bread. "Here."

I swallowed my own little piece of bread, feeling it fill my stomach as I quickly got to my feet. "Frodo, don't. I don't think he can eat what we do, he's been living off raw fish and who knows what else in the mines for years."

"It chokes us!" Gollum gasped, spitting the bread out, and holding onto his throat. He must have not been prepared for the way it would instantly fill him.

"Good riddance." Sam sighed, shaking his head at the wasted bite of bread.

Frodo looked disappointed at the waste too. He had only wanted to help Gollum, but it proved difficult.

"Cruel hobbit." Gollum scowled at Sam. "He does not care if we go hungry."

"Oh enough." I shooed away Gollum by waving my cloak. "I imagine you'll find something to fill that stomach of yours." I waved my cloak and shooed him more. "Go off and find a lizard to eat."

Gollum scurried away and approached Frodo. "Not like Master. Master knows, Master cares."

He reached out to Frodo, but the hobbit drew back. "Do not touch me." Frodo told him firmly. Gollum appeared surprised by this developed after Frodo's kindnesses. Now he seemed to find that he was not as friendly with Frodo as he had first thought. He was still not as trusted as Sam and I were. He gazed up at Frodo with side eyes, but Frodo did not change his mind, and so the creature went rambling off.

Sam and I stared at Frodo. "You two weren't beginning to think I favored him over you?" He asked.

"Well…" Sam began.

"Oh Sam." Frodo smirked. "No. He's only more cooperative toward kindness."

I looked over a Gollum, who was searching through the rushes and overturning rocks. That much was likely true. He listened to Frodo, who was good to him, and cursed the name of Sam, who had been trying to kick him (at my suggestion, I grimaced). I wondered what Gollum thought of me, for I was not as kind as Frodo, but not so hard as Sam.

As I considered this, Gollum looked up at me with a lizard in his mouth.

/

Later, it became quite clear that this was no ordinary swamp. It was a glimpse at first, like you could see something floating in the water out of the corner of your eye. Then you were nearly sure you could see a hand hidden in the shallows of the reeds.

But eventually…we saw the faces. I ignored it at first. I did not wish to look, the skin was too pale and had taken on a grey hue from the swamp water. They looked too alive as it was…as if they had died in the water hours ago, even though it was clear no one had been here for a very long time. It almost seemed disrespectful to look at them in their armor, and see them lying in a swamp for a resting place.

Little by little, the faces and bodies drew closer and closer to the edge of the path we walked on. It did not take much longer for Sam to notice them. "There are dead things!" He gasped. "Dead faces in the water!"

Frodo peered over his friends shoulder and seemed to shudder.

"I see them too." I nodded. "I think they're Men and Elves."

"All dead, all rotten." Gollum spoke in his hoarse voice. "Elves and Men and Orces."

"Where did they all come from?" I asked.

"A great battle long ago." Gollum coughed out the answer. I wished I knew as much about history as Gideon did. He would probably know of the battle right away. The only thing I knew was that Men and Elves had fought together before, in the beginning of our world. These bodies, which seemed to be part of the water itself, were ancient.

"The Dead Marshes. Yes, yes! That is their name. This way. don't follow the light." Gollum babbled on.

Sam continued to stumble along the edge of the path, and I pulled him to the center, directly in front of me. "Keep your feet dry, Sam." I gave him a little push to keep him walking along.

"Careful now…or Hobbits go down to join the dead ones, and light little candles of their own."

I shot the back of Gollum's head a glare, partly for leading us through this swamp in the first place, and partly for scaring us so. "We don't plan to go frolicking in the shallows, thank you very much…" I grumbled to myself. I sighed. "The sooner we reach the end of this bog the better, hmm?" I gave Sam another little push. "Come on Frodo, we should keep up with Gollum all the same." I glanced around me, looking for where Frodo was standing. "Frodo?"

There was a splash.

"Frodo!"

"Mister Frodo!"

Sam and I turned sharply to see the ripples where he had fallen in. I raced over to the edge of the bog where he had fallen in, and thrust my hand into the murky water, searched for his cloak so I could pull him back. The water was surprisingly deep, and it looked like Frodo was floating between the depths and the surface, and was struggling. His cloak may have been weighting him down to the bottom I realised.

My fingers stretched toward him, when I felt a strange tugging at my fingertips. The chill of the water? A pulling of some unseen current? There was a sharp tug, almost as if something had pulled at my hand, and strong enough to make me snap forward a little, as though I was being dragged into the water with the hobbit. I snapped my hand back, just as Sam yelled out "Don't, Miss Fali!" as he came up behind me.

Gollum scurried to the shallows and plunged his hands into the mess, nearly diving into the bog. He took hold of Frodo's hood and pulled. Frodo's head resurfaced and he began coughing and sputtering, and the two of them scrambled back onto the solid land.

I instantly grabbed the hobbit and tried to pull him away from Gollum, despite the fact that the creature had just saved him. A quick glance of him, up and down, proved he was not hurt, only soaked.

I heaved an audible sigh of relief.

"Gollum?" Frodo asked, looking around for the creature and finding him near his side.

"Don't follow the lights." Gollum reminded him, with what appeared to be genuine concern for Frodo.

"What did you think you were doing?" I asked.

"I don't know." He coughed more. "I was looking into the water one moment and the next I fell in."

"You were nearly drowning." I scolded. "Next time stay in the middle of the path." I frowned. "And your soaked…again." I huffed, as I pulled out my bag and grabbed my old, worn cloak that I had started the journey with. "All we've really done on this journey is get ourselves wet one way or another…" I went on. "Here." I passed him the old cloak. "It has acquired a few holes but it's dry."

"Thank you." Frodo took my cloak and removed his wet one. I got him back to his feet, stood him and Sam directly in the center of the path, where I could watch their every step like a hawk and looked down to Gollum again, who continued to watch Frodo with concern on his face. "You're the guide." I said to him. "Lead on."

To which he muttered "Yes, yes…on we go…keep dry, must keep dry now…"

I could tell such words were directed at me, and he was conversating his odd way. IUnsure of how I felt about Gollum trying to speak to me as though I were a friend, I was quiet the rest of the day, and focused on what lay directly before me, never once turning my head again to gaze at the dead in the marsh.

Sleep that night did not come easy. We had found a space solid and flat enough to make a decent camp on, but now the mist rolling around us was more errie than it had been in the day, and I could not forget that in the water so close to us was a hundred, pale bodies. Some part of my mind that lived on nightmares, briefly imagined the horror of the dead rising from the waters. I shook my head, forcefully. No, it did not do to think of such things. They would only play themselves out into my head until I unwilling took them for truth.

So yes…falling asleep was one the night's more difficult challenges.

"Keep your eyes open Sam."

"I will Miss Fali, don't worry." He patted my shoulder lightly.

"Is your cloak dry yet, Frodo?"

"Nearly." He replied. "Sleep Fali."

"I will." I nodded, curled up on my bedroll. A moment later…"Keep your eyes open Sam."

"So I've been told." He smirked.

"Sorry." I mumbled. A moment later… "But keep your eyes open Sam."

There was no reply. "Sam? Samwise?" I looked up and was surprised to find that it was light out, and that our camp was gone, fire ashes and all. "Frodo? Sam?"

"Their fine, Fali."

I knew that voice, but I could not see where it was coming from. "Boromir?" I glanced around me.

"Yes." The answer came, from out in the mists almost.

"Where are you?" I asked, standing up from my bedroll. "I cannot see you."

"I am close by." He replied. I followed the sound of his voice, approaching the water.

"Where are you?" I repeated.

"I am here Fali." I stepped closer to the edge of the water.

"Boromir?" I looked into the water. There he lay, pale as the bodies I had seen before, his red hair waving lightly in the water. He opened his eyes, and there was a small smile.

"Fali." He spoke through the water.

I got my boots wet as I stepped into the water and reached in, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and pulling him up. He broke through the surface.

"Am I dreaming?" I asked him. "I left you with the others."

"Most certainly." He nodded.

"So I did fall asleep." I said. "I was beginning to think I would not be able to." I looked over Boromir. "You look so real." I muttered.

"You are troubled?" He asked.

"Some." I shrugged, pretending that my feet had not bee nsore with all the walking and I was beginning to miss full meals where you actually got to eat and sit and taste the food. Lembas was all well and good, but a nice dinner had it's merits.

"You have been looking after Frodo and Sam?"

"Yes, I have been, and very well too, I might add." I nodded, as the two of us continued to stand in swamp water. "I've been staying brave, just as you said." I smiled. "You would be proud."

"You show a lot of optimism for someone who is on their way to Mordor."

I frowned at the mention of Mordor. Right now I was concerned with the Dead Marsh and what lay between here and the border of Mordor.

"You are frowning." Boromir pointed out to me. "Why?"

I looked up at him. "This is my dream, is it not? You are part of it, you should know what has put me on edge these last few days."

He laughed lightly at me. "Tell me anyway."

"Gollum." I said. "The creature followed us. He's now guiding us to Mordor, and his presence is not the most welcome."

"Do you trust him?"

"Enough to lead us on our way…but certainly not with my life." I said. "I almost wish we could find our way and leave him, but that seems like it will not happen." I sighed. "What of you, and the others? How is Gideon?"

"You said so yourself Fali…this is your dream, and I can only tell you what you already know."

"I figured as much." I sighed. "Come on, let's get out of the water. It may be a dream, but it's making my toes cold."

I pulled but Boromir would not budge from the water. "Are you stuck to the bottom?" I asked.

"You must be brave Fali." Boromir reminded me. "You will soon have great need for courage."

An inhuman screech pierced my ears, building up from within my head. I closed my eyes tightly at the noise and covered my ears with my hands. When I opened my eyes again I was awake, on my bedroll, in our camp. Boromir was gone.

Gollum was screaming about Black Riders.

The Wraiths had returned.


	25. Chapter 24 (Bravery)

It's funny how your heart can sometime freeze up on you, and for a moment you're sure it isn't beating. It doesn't really stop, because if it did, that would mean you had died, but it feels very much like it did. Something literally scares to death, for a few seconds at least.

In my initial shock I sat bolt upright on the bedroll. Then there was another shriek, that pierced into my ears. My eyes grinded shut at the intenseness of the sound and I bowed my head lower to my lap and covered my ears again. "Black Riders!" Sam shouted, getting up in a panic.

I could hardly hear him through the sound and hands pressed flat against my head. When the noise ceased for a short while, and my ears stopped ringing, I scrambled up to my knees and stuffed the bedroll into my bag, cramming it in without rolling it up. "Sam!" I called to capture the attention of the hobbit. "Put out the fire…now!"

Sam stamped out the embers with his feet, as I grabbed every little thing we had unpacked from the ground and stuffed it far, far down into my now nearly bursting bag. "Be brave…" I whispered to myself. "Mahal Fali, be brave." My heart had started beating again, now twice as fast as normal. Every bit of instinct I had was screaming to run and hide, and then my head was reminding myself with urgency that we could not afford to leave any of our supplies behind.

There was yet another screech and this caused me to jump up to my feet, nearly clutching at my chest. My gaze swept over the landscape, but now the mist was not my friend, and hid the enemy from me. Now I felt lost in it, and every shadow seemed like a rider in black. "Where are they?" I spun around. "Where are they coming from?"

Another screech, and the answer became clear. "Sam, they are in the sky!" I exclaimed.

"How?!" He demanded, slinging the other two bags we had with us onto his back.

"We will worry over that later." I said, in a rush. "Frodo?!" I called for my friend, but he gave no answer. "Frodo?!" I tried again, but with no effect. "Where is he? Where is Frodo?" I asked Sam.

Sam frowned as he responded. "He's gone off with that no good Gollum character."

Gollum, I could nearly groan at how well I thought he would be in this mess. "C'mon, we have to hurry and get them both." I pulled on Sam's shoulder. Gollum was shrieking in panic himself, and likely drawing the riders in our direction. If I were any closer I would have wrung his neck for such foolish behaviour. "Gods be willing that thing can keep himself quiet when we hide, or I'll toss him out to those Wraiths like a sacrificial lamb." I bit out through my teeth.

"Hide!" Gollum waved his arms wildly at us. "Hide, we must hide!"

Well, at least he was smart enough to think rationally in this situation…

Frodo was kneeling very close to the ground, clutching at his shoulder in pain.

"Sam!" I said, and the hobbit went to go and rescue his companion. I was quickly scanning the area for shelter of some kind, somewhere where any view from the air would not reveal us.

Be brave…be brave…

I tried to even my breathing. There was nothing but open little patches of land and marsh water, which I certainly did feel comfortable diving into to submerge our heads in effort to hide.

What were we to do? There were no trees to duck under.

Be brave…and breathe…and be brave…

My eyes finally landed upon a low lying bush, looking a bit scraggly, but dense enough to hide yourself from the sky. "There!" I pointed. "Over there, quickly now, quickly." I darted over Sam and Frodo, as Frodo was raised up to his feet, getting a bit more steady.

"Frodo?" He was still grasping his shoulder, and I could now see that his hand was directly over the spot where he had been stabbed by a the Wraith's blade when we were on our way to Rivendell. "Your shoulder…" I answered for him. "Do not worry it will pass." I did not know if it would but I had hopes. "Help me with him, Sam." We both took an arm and guided him over to the bush and the three of us dove under it, tucking ourselves and three bags under the branches securely. Gollum followed at our heels, curling himself close to the thick stem of the shrub.

"I thought they were dead." Sam whispered beside me.

"Dead? No you cannot kill them, no." Gollum corrected the hobbit. A Wraith screamed again, and Gollum reduced himself farther into the ground. "Wraiths!" He almost whimpered. "Wraith on wings!"

"Wings?" I said, quietly, and dared to lift my head just enough to look out over the sky. A black, winged serpent dove across the sky, some equally dark figure on it's back. "A dragon?" I breathed. "Sam, Frodo…they're sitting on the backs of dragons." I could not believe my eyes. I had thought all the serpents of the sky had been cast away or killed long ago, the last one, Smaug, being defeated long ago when my parents were young.

They are calling for It. They are calling for the precious." Gollum warned. Sam and I both looked to Frodo, who's hand was nervously coming closer to the chain around his neck. Sam grabbed hold of one hand and I the other.

"It's alright." Sam tried to comfort him, though his voice was shaky with fear of his own.

"Don't worry, Frodo." I swallowed hard, forcing my voice to be steady.

Be brave, Fali. You have two hobbits that need someone to be brave.

"They won't come near us." I promised, as I watched them turn away. "They can't see us, hidden under here. We've not left anything laying around for them to see." I managed a tiny smile. "Besides, we our clothes being as ruffled and dirtied as they are, I think we're being to match the color of the swamp anyway." I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Look." I nodded to the sky and the little black dots in it that were becoming smaller. "They're leaving now. I told you they would not come near."

We all let out a collectively held breath. "Hurry, hobbits." Gollum cautiously got out of our hiding place. "The Black Gate is very close."

It was, only a half day's journey, which was passed in near silence as we resettled ourselves from the appearance of the Wraiths. The swamp ended, and let into a sharp inclined forest, that eventually thinned to bare rock, and then stopped to descend into lowland, bordered by a tall, black gate. I stared at it, as Gollum went on about how he had done as we asked.

Mordor.

We were so close to it now.

Be brave…be brave…I watched as an army of Men approached, marching in unison. I slunk farther behind the rocks.

"Fali?"

"Hmm?" I snapped out of my mind. "Yes, Frodo?"

"Are you alright?"

"Just prepared for what is to come." I said. "Don't worry about me, friend, I will be fine."

"Look!" Sam caught our attention. "The gate, it's opening!" He leaned forward. "I can see a way down."

I was about to argue that this way was not the most stealthy, when Sam suddenly dropped out of view. There was a surprised yell from him, and then I watched in horror and my friend rolled down the steep, rocky hill, to get stuck in all the shale.

"Sam!" Frodo took off after him without a single thought.

"Frodo, wait!" I tried to grab his sleeve but missed. I charged after the hobbit. Frodo was practically sliding down the hill himself as he managed to stop beside Sam. I skidded around, stirring up dust, and then caught myself behind a boulder. I prepared to make the rest of the journey to them, when I saw a pair of soldiers approaching, and had to quickly duck back behind the rock.

"We must help Master." Gollum followed me, ducking behind the rock as well.

"Shhh!" I hushed him. "We can't move…we can't be seen."

I turned my head around, and was confused to see the hobbits had vanished. "What?" I breathed. "Where are they?" The warriors must have been wondering such too, as they glanced around. I hid myself again from their eyes. What to do? What to do?

Thinking quickly, I picked up a large stone from the ground and tossed it out into the open. The same had worked with the Wraiths before. It set off a small slide of rocks and dust, seeming to have happened on its own. I crouched as low to the ground as I could. When it was safe enough I glanced over again, to see them walking back. Within the blink of an eye, a rock transformed into two hobbits.

I ran toward them, tripping nearly and colliding into them, embracing both of them tightly. "What do you two think you are doing?" I asked. "Have you both gone mad?"

"The gate is closing." Frodo remarked, and our attention snapped to the entrance to Mordor.

Be brave…

"We'll have to run." I noted, and we prepared to do so.

"Now!" Frodo gave the order and we all prepared to rush forward only to be wrenched back by our collars.

"No! No! No Master! They'd catch you! Don't take it to Him." Gollum held us back.

"Let go, you have already done your share." I replied, struggling free of his hold.

We ignored Gollum's argument and made to run again, only to have him hold us back more forcefully. "No! There is another way." Gollum said earnestly. "A more secret, and dark way."

"Why haven't you spoken of this before?!" Sam demanded.

"Aye!" I snapped. "Why did you hide this from us?"

"Because Master did not ask.' Gollum turned to Frodo.

"He's up to something…" Sam warned, eying Gollum suspiciously.

"Are you saying there is another way into Mordor?" Frodo asked Gollum seriously.

"Yes. There are stairs, and a path, and a tunnel." Gollum went on, looking quite pitiful.

Pity worked in his favor. Frodo looked at us.

"Mister Frodo, we can't!" Sam argued.

"He has been true to his word, and has led us this far." Frodo said. He looked at me. "Fali?"

I stared at the now-closed Black Gate. "There's no way to get safely through now." I muttered. "We have to take his word for it."

Sam looked at us in disbelief, to which I gave him an apologetic stare.

"Lead the way." Frodo said to Gollum.

/

The other way into Mordor came as partly a relief, and partly as a concern. Now we had a bit more time, time to rest, time to prepare ourselves for Mordor and the evil that lay waiting for us in there. Much as I wanted this quest be over as quickly as it could be, I knew none of us were mentally ready to go charging into the gates, like we had tried. That had been a moment of sheer bravado, for we thought we had no other way inside. Now we had time.

And yet time was our enemy too. That only meant more days sleeping out in the open, more days in which our supply of lembas bread would continue to diminish if we could not find good hunting, and more days in which Frodo would have to wear the Ring around his neck.

"And then up stairs…up, up, up…and through the tunnel we goes…" Gollum spoke to himself, creeping along the path, just a little bit ahead of me.

I sighed. More time before reaching Mordor also meant more days spent with Gollum.

"I can't take much more of his chattering…" Sam said to Frodo. "You don't suppose that if you asked him….seeing as he's so fond of you, Mister Frodo…that he might hush up for a bit?"

"I don't think he even realises he is speaking sometimes." Frodo said, apologetically. "You will grow used to the sound of him soon enough Sam. Besides, we have greater concerns than what Gollum mutters under his breath."

"I suppose you're right." He nodded. "Say, Miss Fali?" He called out to me.

"Yes, Samwise?"

"Do you think you'll be able to find something to hunt down in a place like this?" He asked, a hopeful note in his voice.

"It looks much more promising than the swamp did." I nodded. "Rest assured Sam, something will be found for you to use that seasoning you brought along." I quickly scanned the ground. Disturbed foliage, little bird prints in the dirt, a good amount of trees. There would be something to hunt down here, and help me hold up my word.

That evening I set to making those words a reality. I look up the two lengths of rope we had, my own, and Sam's elvish gift, and tied up snares in the middle of the thicket. "Please let them catch something." I said, wishfully. I wanted something other lembas for a change, the wafers were starting to taste bland after eating them for so many meals. I took up my position a fair distance from the snares and waited in another nearby thicket. I removed the elvish dagger I had taken along with me since Rivendell, and toyed with the smaller weapon in my hands, twisting the hilt in my grip and tossing it into the air to catch it safely again. A twisted up old tree with a large knot in it's trunk caught my attention and I took aim for the center of the knot, taking a ready stance and running the dagger through the air in a series of short jabs before throwing it in that direction. The knife flew and embedded itself a few inches below the knot.

Undeterred, I went to rescue the blade from the wood of the tree, return myself to the distance I was before, and try the exercise again. The second attempt it was too high to hit it's target. Then too low again, then it hit another tree altogether as my frustration got the best of me. I went to go and pull the dagger out of the tree for one more go at it, when I heard some twig snap from close by and I spun around.

I swallowed, took in a large breath to calm my nerves, and then pulled the dagger free, to hold in one hand as I removed my sword from my belt with the other. I approached the noise I had heard, ears straining to pick up anything else. Perhaps it had only been an animal, in which case, I should not go any further or I would scare it away from the traps I had set. I took on step back, when there was another light, almost inaudible snap, and I froze. Had that been my boot that caused the noise? It had not felt as though I stepped on anything.

I stayed still, and then heard the softest sound of a groundling. I grinned. Not quite roast chicken, but roast meat none the less. The little burrowing creature nosed it's way along the forest floor, climbing over tree roots, and not too far away from the snare. I hoped it smelt the lembas crumbs I had laid under it.

The groundling's nose twitched and it stood up on it's hind legs, looking about itself, as though it was suspecting a danger.

I saw the flash of blue eyes, just as the animal turned around and made to run away.

Gollum came bursting out of the bushes, snarling loudly, and looking just as frightening as he had been the night we found him. The groundling ran for it's life, as it was pursued by Gollum. He chased the poor thing twice around the tree where it's burrow must have been and then the thing darted away and was caught up in my snare, where it's fright was ended at last. I remained frozen where I stood throughout the whole ordeal. Gollum pounced upon the snare and the groundling, where upon he began to tear ravenously at the rope and the animal with his teeth, like a wild animal would.

It was here I snapped back to myself, mainly because that was my rope, and I could not have him chewing through it. "No!" I yelled at Gollum. "Stop that!"

He did not hear me, and if he had heard me he ignored me, quite blatantly. I charged forward, now wearing a stern expression. "Let go of that!" I snapped, forgetting that Gollum was acting more creature than human at the moment. He looked up at me, almost surprised. Then he snarled, baring his sparse fangs at me.

Not taking any of it, I pointed my sword at him. "I…said…to…let…go." I said, my tone slow and like steel.

We glared at each other, my gaze fiery, and his with icy blue eyes, where the pupils were like mere pin pricks in all the color. "Drop it." I demanded again. "That is not for you, that is for all of us." He did not budge, and I added "It's for Frodo too, your Master, remember?" Hopefully bringing up his pet name for Frodo would have some effect.

He dropped the groundling, now a bit more disheveled than it had been before. He looked up at me, wondering if I would still take it. I watched his face as he watched me. Oddly, despite the light not changing, his pupils dilated back their normal size. I ducked down and grabbed the animal, untying the rope from it's neck.

"Hopefully it's still fit to eat." I sighed, inspecting the ragged shoulder of the prey. Gollum had bitten into the creature's throat, but luckily the rest of it seemed intact and unspoiled by his rotten teeth.

"Rude it is, taking the food right from our mouth." Gollum turned mopey.

"It landed in my snare." I argued back. "Therefore it's mine. We need meat anyhow…and it won't do for you to eat it raw."

"Yes it would."

"No, it wouldn't."

"What does it know?" Gollum shrugged and turned away from me, like a child. "Nothing." He answered himself.

"Fine, grumble all you like." I said. "Go off and chase more of them down if you want, just keep away from the snares." I bent low to set up another trap with the freed rope. This time I did not venture off to another thicket, but strayed to edge of the one where I stood, and began my practise of dagger throwing again. Gollum lingered about for a moment, before heeding my advice and going off to other dens and hollows to seek out a meal of his own. I could hear him crawling through the undergrowth, in circles all around me. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, as I tossed around the dagger more. I had been so much better at this as a child, when Kien and Tauris, my half-elf cousins were there to teach me.

It took a few more minutes and a few more throws before I started to become more accurate. Perhaps the bit of nervous adrenaline Gollum's presence put in me was helping. I lined up the knife and my target for yet another go at it, when I caught Gollum looking at me from the undergrowth a few feet away, his only give-away the brightness of his eyes. I startled at the sight of him and his gaze, feeling oddly like I had taken the place of the groundling now, and he was trying to hunt me down. It sent rather unpleasant chills down my back, and I understood why Sam hated the creature so much. Perhaps this is what it felt like to be around Gollum for him, and if that was the case, I could not blame him for his intense dislike of our guide.

"Oi!" I snapped back. "Get out of there." He crawled out, approaching slowly, like a lost dog approaches a stranger. "What are you trying to do? Frighten me?" I glared a little bit. "It won't work." I added, wondering if that was entirely a lie.

"Frighten it?" Gollum looked up at me. "No."

"Then what do you mean by sneaking around me in circles and watching me practise?"

"Is it frightened?"

"Answer my question."

"Is it scared?" Gollum took a step forward, getting too close for my liking. I pointed the dagger at him.

"I am not frightened of you." I said, believing myself a little more. Boromir would laugh at me for fearing something that was smaller than me and unarmed. "I know how to protect myself from things far worse than you." I advanced on him a little and he retreated back a few steps. This relaxed me, it was good to see that I held some power in this stand-off.

"So many knives…" Gollum muttered, in a criticizing tone.

"Now, go run off and hunt somewhere else like you were supposed to." I said. "Or both of us won't catch anything."

"Smeagol has already eaten." He shrugged, and left me, no longer interested in pushing me around.

"Who?" I asked, unfamiliar with the name.

"Smeagol."

"Yes, but who is that?"

"Gollum."

"What?"

"Smeagol is Smeagol, Gollum is Gollum and both are Smeagol and Gollum." He spoke in pure riddles.

"I don't understand." I sighed, giving up trying to make sense of him.

"What does it know?" Gollum shrugged again in farewell. "Nothing."


	26. Chapter 25 (Rohan)

"Gideon?"

I blinked in response, sleep evaporating from my body quickly.

"Master Gideon?"

A second round of blinking, this time more purposeful. I turned my head toward Aragorn, who was still shaking my shoulder lightly. "Yes?" I replied, quiet in the meager light of dawn.

"We're going to practise again." He nodded.

I nodded, rising onto one elbow, before registering just how dim the light was this early in the morning. "Do you think there's light enough for it? I'd hate to hurt you…or have the same happen to myself…"

"Rise. The sun will do the same soon." Obediently I did, trusting his decision to train with me this early, rather than in the evening, which had become part of a now-normal routine over the last few days. "Bring your sword." He said, and then turned and began to walk away from our camp, where we were less likely to have distraction or interruption. Gimli had already become too engrossed with my new training on one occasion already, and Aragorn had been careful to not make the mistake of sparring close to camp again.

"Move your feet, keep moving!"

I could still hear him encouraging and critiquing me from the side. Aragorn had made the decision that I was to have only one instructor at a time. And at Gimli's peaked interest in teaching me how to wield an axe…the great weapon of our people, I believe Gimli called it…he suggested, as gently as possible, that swordsmanship was the skill best learned first, as I already had a blade with me, and knew how the basics of using it.

At last Aragorn stood ready, and I did the same, without need for the command to do so. I had learned the patterns of his teaching skills quickly, and could now go about entire lessons without him telling me when to rise and stand and change position.

I waited, adjusted my feet a little, digging the toes of my boots across the ground a little, as if to grip the earth, took in a reassuring breath. Aragorn took up the notion to start the spar himself this time, and I took a single step forward, keeping my balance, and meeting his blows. For a moment he pushed the edge of his sword against mine, trying to drive me back, but I knew now that my stance was secure, and my balance was good. He would have to shove even harder than that to get me to fall over. I wasn't going to panic just yet.

If anything, that was the lesson I was most grateful for…the learning not to panic.

Aragorn shoved harder, and my wrist fumbled with my sword and I had to quickly retreat back a little, and then quickly defend myself.

Of course, it was one of the more difficult lessons for me to learn.

Breathe…and I did so, placing my feet in a strong stance again, and the hurrying to meet Aragorn's strikes until I managed to regain the rhythm I had before and fall back into easy, sure strikes and well met blows.

Aragorn allowed the spar to be more friendly than educational for a few minutes, and then became harsher in his offense. His sword swung faster, nearer, pressuring me to fight back more. I tried, meeting one strike, in the hope that it would set him off balance…Aragorn was not set off balance easily. We were soon locked, blades cross before us, the swords colliding in the middle of the blade.

The only thing to do was slide the blades even further along each other until the hilts locked. We stayed in that block for a few seconds, the metal shaking in our hands (or at least in mine, I was beginning to feel adrenaline again and it more bad for me than good). "Now what?" Aragorn asked, prompting me.

My mind reeled back to the previous spars and his teachings…good balances, firm grips, sure strides, precise aim. Taking opportunities…and when there was none creating them yourself. Daring to do so, and acting as quickly as I could I swung out of the block, taking a step back to avoid his close pursuit and swung at his side, which was temporarily exposed.

I was quick, but he was better still, managing to catch my attack, push me and my momentum further away, and then follow us, until his sword was neatly pointing at my shoulder. "You've got to be joking." I sighed, and I thought I could almost hear Dwalin's voice coming out of my mouth at my exasperation. "How in the world did you escape that?"

"Next time do not step so far away." Aragorn instructed. "It will work better."

"Alright, let's try that again." I nodded, and stepped into the ready stance.

"Perhaps not." Aragorn tried to dismiss me. "The sun has risen, and we'll need to be moving on soon."

I glanced around me, finding that there was sufficient daylight now. "Have we really been sparring all this time?"

"It's not been too long." Aragorn replied.

"Well, I suppose…" I shrugged at that. "But have we really spent all this time training and only had one spar?"

"You're improving some." Aragorn nodded.

"I am?"

"Does that news surprise you?"

I had to admit it did. Not really the fact that I was improving, that was believable, the fact that I appeared to be improving over the span of a few days was more surprising. Aragorn took my silence as as agreement. He snickered softly to himself. "Come, Gideon." He nodded. "Let's return now."

"May we spar once more?" I asked.

"Again?" He turned his head, an eyebrow raised.

"Not a full spar." I corrected myself. "Just the last bit, the one with the block. To practise." I held out my sword like I had in that moment and stood ready. Aragorn paused a moment longer in thought, and then stood as he had with our swords locked together. I waited a moment, then jumped away, staying closer than before, spinning from the block and swinging out to his side again.

Aragorn gave a short hiss of pain. Well, not true pain I expect, but more unexpected surprise. I had accidently struck him in the back of the hand with my blade. I dropped my sword, and the apologies suddenly came flowing from my mouth like an unstoppable waterfall. "Oh! Sorry! Was that me? I did not mean to actually strike you. Sorry. Of course it was me. Stupid, really. Maybe I was too close. Sorry. I'll step back a degree further next time. Sorry. Are you alright? Damn, your hand is bleeding, isn't it? How bad? I'm sorry."

He held up his hand (the bleeding one) and quieted me. "It is nothing." He brushed it all off. "Take up your sword again. We'll have to hurry back." I nodded, mutely.

As we walked back side by side, I took the opportunity to look over where I had cut him. It was not very deep, only a scratch, luckily. Despite being on the hand he used when he fought, movement did not seem to bother the little injury.

"Sorry." I added again, breaking the silence between us. Aragorn laughed lightly, as he wiped the trail of blood from his hand.

/

Horses were tall, very tall. I felt as though I would be even higher up than the head of a man standing on the ground. The today the beasts were quick, and I clung to saddle where I sat behind Aragorn. We were due to reach our destination soon, and I hoped the people there would not take me for child. I had no beard like Gimli to alert them I was a dwarf, and my size was like that of a youth. Mother would probably laugh at my thoughts, and say being mistaken for young boys ran in the family.

We approached a hill that I had seen growing out of the distance for some time, and I noticed that it was really a town, and a large one, build about a hill. Rohan. Most things was carved of wood, from the sturdy walls all around the township to the very shingles on the roofs of the larger houses. Those that were smaller were still made of thatched hay. Some of the buildings had adornments that looked like horses, and other had simpler patterns carved into the thresholds. When we were directly before the settlement I lost sight of the rooftops and doorways and my view was blocked by the wall.

All in all it had looked cozy, and charming in it's own way.

Getting closer, we realised that such was not exactly true.

There had been a discarded flag that blew in the wind to greet us, one that had the image of a horse on it, pure white, with it's powerful muscles outlined by gold embroidery. I was surprised to find something as important as a flag so easily dismissed by it's bearers. The fabric had been cast to the wind, and no one sent so much as a stable boy to go and retrieve it.

I watched as the breeze carried it away. A few more gusts of mind and it was gone, forgotten.

No one had even noticed it.

Had I been a few inches taller I would have jumped down from the horse and ran to fetch it, but with my height dismounting on a whim was difficult.

We entered the town and were greeted by some sideways glances from the villagers.

"You'd find more cheer in a graveyard." Gimli said.

The people did seem to have a ghost-like quality about them. They blended in so well with their surroundings they seemed to melt into the walls of the stables and homes and market stalls. There was a grimness to their actions, a sheer lack of joy. They'd be ignoring us, and then as we passed by, there eyes would lift, and there would be a haunting gaze on you, that was soon dropped.

No one showed the least interest, or even a bit more surprise, at our arrival. It was like we were the living in a graveyard.

Apparently sweeping up and sorting out potatoes was all they cared for at the moment.

"They do seem rather…distant." I said, to Aragorn. "Hopefully there's an inn that will take us, if we are to stay here." I looked up at him. "Aragorn?" His gazed was fixed elsewhere, and I followed his eyes to the lone figure who was watching us keenly.

A lady outside the hall, atop the very peak of the hill. Her hair was golden and she wore a dress so crisply white that it she resembled in some ways the image of the horse upon the flag with it's white coat and golden thread. When she saw more than one person was looking at her she turned and went back inside the hall.

"Who was she?" I asked.

"The Lady Eowyn." It was Gandalf who answered me.

"She's the only who seems to have realised this city has new visitors."

Gandalf merely nodded, taking in the ghost-like gazes of the others.

With the wizard taking up the lead, we dismounted before the hall and walked directly up the stairs, with no trouble except for when we reached the entrance. A captain and a few guards stood ready, the first people other than Lady Eowyn to see that we were coming.

"I cannot allow you before Theoden, our king, so armed, Gandalf Grayhame. By order of… Gríma Wormtongue." The last part was said quite bitterly.

Unarmed? I froze up a little, despite better efforts. This had not been part of our plan…

Nevertheless, the plan had called for us to go before Theoden and the only way that was going happen peacefully (more or less) was if we did not have any weapons on us. Gandalf gave a nod, and I watched was Aragorn, Legolas and even Gimli handed over sword and axe and bow.

"Be careful with this," Legolas gently passed over the bow. "It was given to me as a gift from the Lady Galadriel."

The guard seemed awed by this news, and took it carefully.

It was enough to make me hand over my blade, and the few knives I had in my bag. "Be careful with it, please." I said. "It's nymphian." They stared at the image of the otter curiously, but handled the weapon well.

"Your staff?" The captain requested of Gandalf, and Gimli and I shared an apprehensive glance.

"Oh? Surely you wouldn't part an old man from his walking stick?" Gandalf asked, pleasantly.

The captain nodded, and let us pass without any more words. Gandalf quickly concealed his staff beneath the grey robe he wore, and we at last entered the hall. Legolas had the good sense to take the arm of the wizard, as though he did need assistance walking.

The inside was dim, lit by only a few braziers full of candles. When I beheld King Theoden and Grima Wormtongue, the first image that came to my mind was that of a puppet on strings and it's player.

King Theoden looked pale, shriveled, and resembled overall a moth eaten rag. The king of the ghosts and his graveyard kingdom. Even his eyes had gone dull. Beside him knelt Grima, who looked like a raven that had ink spilt over it. Except for his face, his face was set in a grey, sunken complexion. He whispered into the king's ear. The player pulling the strings of a puppet…

"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Theoden, king." Gandalf called out, his voice echoing in the dimness of the tomb-like hall.

"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf?" The breath that came out of Theoden sounded ancient. It really was like we were speaking with a withering corpse. What dark magic in the air here?

"A just question, my liege." Grima hissed. The sound of his choice changed my perception of him and I took his looks now more for a black serpent than a raven.

"Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Lathspell I name him. Ill news is in ill guest." Grima stood and approached us.

"Be silent! Keep your forked tongue behind you teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm!" Gandalf spat back, and then he at last revealed his staff again.

The effect it had on Grima was immediate, as he began to cower back, a snake slithering into it's hole. "His staff!" I was half a gasp and half an order. "I told you to take the wizard's staff!"

This was when the guards began to act, and the four of us had to leap away from Gandalf's side and tackle them into the floor by brute force alone. Given how I wasn't so tall I barreled myself into the legs of the nearest guard and we both collided jarringly into the floor. There we grappled for a moment before I managed to twist my hand back to my boot and pull out a small knife I had there.

It wasn't much more than a blade for sharpening lead, but if I ever remembered one lesson from my father, Fili, prince of Erebor, it was this:

"Children, always make sure you carry a knife somewhere on you. More than one if you can, and hide them all well."

To which my siblings nodded, and I asked our mother if such was really needed.

"Your father survived a battle of many armies with the help of many knives." She would shrug. Then, softly, "Do as you wish Gideon, he is only teasing…remembering old days of adventure."

So I had started carrying lead and quill-pen knives in my boots, if anything to have them when I needed them and to appease Father.

This one was certainly proving it's use. Who else in my family had said the taller man is the one who comes to a spar more prepared? Thorin? Dwalin? Perhaps Vesper?

Even though the blade was by all means small, stuck in the right place it could still cause a good lot of damage and so my guard went still and surrendered.

My attention was torn away from him when I heard the sound of Theoden laughing hoarsely. "You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey." His words were gasped out.

Gandalf threw off the grey covering with a sweep of his shoulders and the white of his robes seemed to reflect the feeble glow of the candles and amplify the light within the room. The ghost-king was about to be restored to life again.

"I will draw you Saruman, like poison is drawn from a wound." Gandalf said, lowly, as he neared the throne.

It appeared that the process of reviving someone was an unpleasant one, for when Gandalf pointed his staff at Theoden, he cried out as though in pain. I winced, as the struggle between the two of them went on.

I saw her as a flash of white and gold, before Aragorn stopped her. The Lady Eowyn burst into the hall, drawn by the noise, and tried to rush to the king's side. I was reminded of Fali, and her own impulsiveness when it came to the people she loved.

Another voice came from the king, one that did not sound like his own. "If I leave…Theoden dies!"

Eowyn made to rush to his side again, or cast herself between the wizard and the king. I jumped up from the guard, who was too stunned by the happenings in the hall to move anyway, and took hold of her other arm.

She looked down at me and her face changed from a glare, to surprise (she probably thought I was a younger boy) and then curiosity as she saw that despite my height I appeared older.

"Rohan is mine!" The words of evil erupted from his throat. Her face turned to him again, concern written all over her face, and I felt badly for restraining her, but it would have been dangerous for anyone to step into the path of Gandalf's magic.

With a final command of "Be gone!" Theoden was thrust backward into the throne, and at last the air of growing tension settled.

Eowyn tore herself away from us, with a force so strong it hurt my wrist. She immediately went to the Theoden's side, and cradled his face in her hands as he breathed with laboured effort.

A spectacular change came over him, as life returned to his cheeks, the deathly pale hue cast back by a healthy rosiness. The disheveled grey hair, shrank back till it was neat and blond. The eyes cleared until there was fire in them again.

Eowyn was smiling at him, and grasped his hands, gently bringing the knuckles of now strong hands to her lips to kiss them fondly. He turned to her as though waking from a dream. "I know your face." He said at last, strength returning to his voice as well. "Eowyn…" He spoke softly. "Eowyn." Then, as he turned to face us, "Gandalf?"

"Breathe the free air again, my friend." The wizard smiled.

"Dark have been my dreams of late."

"Your fingers would remember their old strength better if they grasped your sword." The captain of the guards carried forth the blade in question, a solid piece, with an elaborate hilt of two horses, their graceful necks bent so that their noses touched.

He drew the blade from it's place, and as he did, I felt chills down my back, as though all of Rohan was again drawing in breath and coming back to true life.

Theoden stood triumphant…and then his eyes shot out over the hall and narrowed upon Grima Wormtongue, caught beneath the boot of Gimli.


	27. Chapter 27 (The shadow of war)

"Your witchcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!" Theoden was back to his normal self, very much alive and very much angered with his servant's traitorous behaviour. Grima was cast out of the hall like a rat, and thrown down the steps.

Grima, like any man, pleaded for his life. Theoden was not paying much attention to such pleas. If anything, it was adding fuel to the fire of his anger. By now the guards were beginning to crowd about the doorway to the hall, watching what was unfolding on the steps. They were so closely pressed together, and taller than I, that my one window to what was happening was the narrow gap between the two sides of a pair of guards who had their arms flung around each other's shoulders. I felt someone's hands on my shoulders, using me as a bit of leverage to see over the guard's shoulders, and a piece of golden hair floated down in front of my face. I looked up at the face of Eowyn, who was surveying the scene with a serious expression, not grimness, but the face of someone about to witness justice.

Perhaps she had hated Grima Wormtongue as much as Theoden had. He had taken her home and family from her with his manipulative ways…I could not blame her if she wanted to see an end come unto him. I would very likely feel the same way if my family and home were the ones in question.

Theoden raised his sword then, and prepared to strike down the black serpent in his hall, but Aragorn pushed past us all, and stalled his hand. "No, my lord! Let him go." Aragorn rushed to say.

Eowyn was tense, and her nails dug into my shoulders. I would have something about it, but she did not even seem to realise that was still leaning on me.

"Enough blood has been spilt on his account." Aragorn held out a hand to Grima, but the man spit at the gesture and then rushed off into the crowd, lost to us.

Eowyn let out a breath at his departure, and my shoulders were at last released from her hold. She seemed to notice how she had been clutching me the entire time, and looked down at me, briefly, but apologetic. "Sorry." She muttered, and stepped back from me.

I watched her from the corner of my eye. She continued to step backwards until she backed into the wall, where upon her entire form gave out and leaned against it heavily for support. "Is she alright?" I asked Legolas, quietly.

The elf glanced briefly backward, as the people began to bow to King Theoden. "I do not think so." He replied. "Her face is empty, and there is sorrow hidden in her eyes."

"Should we do something?"

"One of us could go and console her." Gimli added. "She's just spent Mahal knows how long living in this city, robbed of her family, watching that Wormtongue fellow control her uncle, seeing him deteriorate before her very eyes…"

"What would we even say?" I asked.

"That she has our deepest sympathies?" Gimli suggested.

"Even the greatest of sympathies cannot remove the ill that's been put on this house." Legolas shook his head.

I sighed. "I'll go." Neither of them sounded very cheerful at the moment, and I trusted that I could at least manage a smile if she looked so much like Fali. I approached her slowly, and she stared ahead of herself almost blankly, like someone who is blind.

I cleared my throat, and the noise directed her attention to me. "My lady…" I began with a respectful nod of my head. I smiled, not very brightly, but it would have been improper to grin too much under such heavy circumstances. "Is all well?"

"Who are you?" She asked, taking in my form again.

"Gideon, son of Fili." I introduced myself. "I came with the wizard and my other companions. I'm sorry for the brief chaos we caused. Hopefully you'll be forgiving of that."

"Yes." She nodded. Her gaze was lost again.

"Is something troubling you?" I pressed her.

"He does not remember…" She answered me, vaguely, as though she was speaking to only herself. "He would have spoken if he had…"

"I'm sure his memory will come back to him soon." I said, with hope. "He's only just returned to himself, we cannot expect him to remember everything so immediately."

"Where is Theodred?" The king asked. "Where is my son?"

The moment the question was asked Lady Eowyn began to weep softly. I was at a loss of what to do. If it had been my sister or Vesper, or quite frankly anyone else I knew better, I would have embraced them. Instead, I spoke softly. "Oh, no there is no need to cry now. It will all be well soon." I smiled more. "Come. We'll need to search down the king's son."

She looked at me, with an empty face and sorrowful eyes, just as Legolas had described. "Theodred is dead."

/

I was unprepared for an answer like that, and could only give her 'my deepest sympathies'. Legolas had been right, such words did not seem like enough.

Theoden returned to the hall upon hearing the news, and demanded that he and Eowyn be left alone to grieve privately. Such wishes were obeyed. The captain of the guard, Hama, was left to make arrangements for us and our horses. We were thankful, slept heavy that night, and arose early to attend the funeral of Theodred with the city.

I stood beside Eowyn. She was dressed in her finery, but her face was still etched with a deep sadness. The loss of her cousin had affected her deeply, and I could not imagine the pain in her heart. She sang softly as Theodred was carried past us, as he was laid to rest. Under my breath I followed the words, though I did not understand the entire song.

An evil death has been set forth on the noble warrior…that was one of the lines, and I found it to be true.

After the ceremony was finished and everyone had expressed their condolences, we scattered to our separate corners of the city.

Aragorn said today we would not practise my swordsmanship. It did not seem right.

I sought out solitude, and pulled out the journal I was keeping throughout the journey, though my head was too full of worries and sympathies to write much of anything. I forced myself to record our dealings with Grima Wormtongue, and how we had saved Theoden, the King of Rohan, but too much thought on such subjects only crammed more worries into my head.

Eventually I rose, chose a private space, and practised a few drills and stances.

It was more something Fali would do, but I found that it occupied my mind enough to stop the thoughts of everyone's sorrow, and my growing worries, that were leaching to the surface again. Seeing a funeral upon our second day in Rohan was not the most hopeful welcoming.

I wondered what Fali thought of when she practised by herself. I found my mind wondering back to the familiar training grounds of Erebor, and my siblings scrambling in the sand to be at each other's throats, and I playing along and practising dutifully. Cousins firing arrows expertly at targets and even Ori's son trying his luck with various weapons. Much like his father, Orian was better suited for the pen and parchment.

He'd do well, taking his father's place in the libraries officially, now that we knew he was truly gone.

I shook the thoughts of death from my head again. No, no…I had to distract myself. I struck harder against my imaginary foe.

My mind forced itself back to Erebor and familiar times. I recalled the last time when I had fought in the sand of the arena. It had been with Vesper as my opponent, and the others had been along the side, puffing out tired breaths from their fights and watching me keenly.

Vesper had just become leader of the South, though she still remained under the advisory of her mother, and the encouragement of her father. Such a change in her. She stood taller, her gaze was harder, her grip firmer. Leadership had steeled her up. Truth be told we thought she would not visit in the early summer, with everything changing for her. But she came and we treated her as we always had.

Orian shied away from her a little, almost afraid of his cousin in the first few days. Fali eyed her curiously. Vesper had turned very serious, and her restless and almost carefree nature had been quieted some.

Really, she had just grown up…if a bit quickly…

Our fight lasted a long time, and I wondered if she was going easy on me. I never knew, for I never asked. Her hair had been up when we started and by the time I had been sent into the sand, too slow and exhausted to keep up with her, her hair had fallen from it's confining pins and was straying down her shoulders again.

She was beaming down at me, and although the others could only see her back and thought her appearance triumphant, I saw her joy. She hadn't looked so serious right then.

"You fight well." Vesper had said that on that last day, but it was not her voice that said it now. I turned sharply, dropping my sword in the process. I must have looked like a child caught misbehaving.

It was Lady Eowyn, and she smiled softly at my fumbling.

"Thank you." I replied, followed quickly by "My condolences for your family's loss."

"Thank you." She accepted the sympathy in a quiet tone.

"I don't really fight so well." I said modestly of myself. "I've been practising with Aragorn. It's easier to look like you're doing very well when you have no one fighting against you."

"I could." She looked at me, and I saw a spark in her eyes that was familiar. It was like Fali's and like Vesper's spark. Determined, thrill-seeking, adventurous, confident…yes, it was the same as theirs.

Briefly I considered if it was my fate to constantly have women like this around me. My mother, my sister, my friend…now that I was without them, destiny planted Eowyn before me.

"Perhaps later." I said. "Today is a day meant for recollection of happier times, and comforting others." I smiled, comfortingly. "You must be strong, to have such fire still burning in you."

She understood, though I felt beastly for bringing up the tender topic, though I had done so delicately. She nodded. Perhaps she had only wanted something to occupy herself, as I had. Something that would drain her body of energy and her mind of thought.

Maybe I should not have refused her…

There was the whinny of a horse, and she then flew to the nearest window with such haste a piece of hair come from it's pins, just as Vesper's had on the day I had last seen her. For a moment there was hope on her face, and then a clear disappointment, which she corrected to a serious look.

I took up the other window and saw a lone horse on the horizon, just atop a hill. On it sat two children, young, disheveled, and frightened. The one sitting in the back of the saddle, most likely a boy from what I could see at my distance, fell down, looking quite lifeless.

The second one began to cry, scared.

"Oh no." I quickly retrieved my blade and set it back in my belt. I began to seek out Aragorn, or Legolas and Gimli. Even a servant wandering the halls. Eowyn followed at my heels, tucking her hair back into place quickly and walking with such quick, long strides she passed me. She found a pair of servants and ordered the one to fetch a healer promptly and the other to race down to the stables and fetch a horse for her. Evidently, the situation was so dire to her, that a saddle was not required.

She sped off, leaving me behind and I watched from the lower windows as she rode over the plains, the horse bareback and without a lead.

It was the finest example of horsemanship I had ever seen, rivaling even the work of the cavalry I had witnessed earlier.

I burst into the quarters that had been given to us. Gandalf was absent, no doubt consoling Theoden over his loss, but the other three were present, doing small tasks, like smoking a pipe in contemplation, inspecting the fitness of the remaining arrows, or if you were Gimli, eating a piece of bread.

"Gideon?" Aragorn looked up past the wisps of white smoke emitted from his pipe. He was beginning to drop the title of master.

"What happened?" Legolas looked up, and Gimli paused mid-chew.

"I don't rightly know." I tried to explain. "A horse came, with two children for riders. One has gone unconscious I believe. They look as though they've been through quite the ordeal."

For a moment it looked like none of us knew how to proceed. The occurrence was unusual, but children were not our business. At the end of the moment, I said "I think I shall see them, Eowyn raced out to collect them, and it seemed to cause a stir in her."

At this they agreed to follow me, and we soon found ourselves in the Hall again, where the one child, definitely a boy now that I could see him before me, was just being revived. Eowyn was wiping away the tears of the little girl with as much motherliness as Fali, and soon the two children were sitting before great bowls of stew and eating it with vigor. Eowyn did not leave there side.

Just like Fali, I thought…if she were here those two would be friends in an instant and watching over children and hobbits alike.

Slowly, as we sat back and let Eowyn work, she coaxed the children's story from their lips. By the end I was filled with a gripping tension, and my mind was full of images of chaos and flames. Wildmen had taken to burning down villages and storming the plains.

Our worries were growing, and at a hasty pace…

"They had no warning." Eowyn said, sadly, speaking toward her uncle, Theoden, who listened with patience. "There were unarmed. Now the Wildmen are moving through westfold, burning as they go, every rick, cot, and tree."

The young girl spoke up with a sudden desperation, asking where their mother was. Somehow they had expected she would be here before them. Eowyn gently quieted, and she soon resigned to finishing her stew, as her brother moved closer to her side.

"This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash. All the more potent for he is driven mad by the fear of Sauron." Gandalf advised the king. "Ride out and meet him, head on. You must draw him away from the women and children…you must fight."

Aragorn nodded. "You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak."

It then dawned on me, past any thought of the children in front of me, or how much Eowyn reminded me of my sister, or sympathy for this house in which we were guests, that I was to be part of this. If Theoden gave the word to fight, then I had to fight.

A battle.

I had never seen a battle before, much less participated in one.

I hated fighting. I hated death.

I was like my mother, and I would have wanted nothing more than to stand between two opposing forces and demand peace, without a single drop of blood meeting the ground.

But things like that were now the past and I was rather beside myself with my fears and my follies.

Fighting…why was it that everything led to fighting? This man had just lost his son because of fighting and now he was considering sending thousands back out into fray.

Perhaps it was to avenge the fallen…dwarfs knew something of avenging, loyal to our kin as we were.

"Eomer is still loyal to you, his men will return and fight."

At the mention of the name 'Eomer' a certain look fell over Eowyn's face like a shadow. Disappointment, again. She must have expected him to return, not the appearance of two children. The similarity of their names meant they were related in some fashion. Perhaps brother and sister even.

"They will be three hundred leagues from here by now." Theoden said, exasperated. "Eomer cannot help us." Both he and Eowyn looked quite saddened by this fact.

The silence around us was heavy. Aragorn was still smoking his pipe, having carried it with him, Legolas had ceased inspecting his arrows and was watching the whole scen, alert. Gimli had taken up eating again, on a separate table, and was filling up on the missed and reduced meals we had been having.

My head was filling with a growing dread, and repeating the word 'war' over and over again. War…was I prepared for something like that?...war…how soon would it be upon us?...war….blood, and death and the pain, both in your body and heart, it brought…war…it had such an ugly face to me.

"I know what is that you want of me. But I would not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war."

The words broke the cycle within me and offered relief, but left my head suddenly too empty. Now all I could think was…if not war…then what will be done?

"Open war is upon you, whether you would risk it or not." Aragorn said, firmly, serving to remind us of the seriousness of the situation.

He was right, I reminded myself. We were like mice backed into a corner by a cat. Fighting was the only logical way to get out of this. My mind started swirling with fears again. I caught Legolas looking over me, for I had no doubt paled.

I returned his look, and with effort, controlled my shallowed breathing until it was normal again, and my face appeared calm. The elf, now more sure that I was alright, looked away.

"When last I looked, Theoden, not Aragorn, was king of Rohan." Theoden spoke, a little harshly.

Gandalf finally stepped in. "Then what is the King's decision?" He asked.

I held my breath, waiting for an answer.

 **A bit late, but the holidays happened. Speaking of which happy holidays and a great new year.**


	28. Chapter 27 (Practise and partings)

Helm's Deep was the answer I waited with bated breath for. At first I had no idea what Helm's Deep was or where it was located, and looked around at everyone around me, silently asking that one of them inform me of both.

The gravity of the answer seemed to pull everyone into themselves momentarily though, so I was left standing until I cleared my throat, and asked quietly "What is Helm's Deep?"

Legolas turned toward me. "A stronghold by the White Mountains." He replied. "The valley is fortified, naturally. The people of Rohan have long kept small regiments there for some time."

Fortified, I liked the sound of that. Safety.

"Well, that sounds like a good decision." I said.

I was met with a few mumbled replies, and soon the plan was set in motion. Theoden's captain of the guard, Hama, proclaimed the order to the entire city, and soon everyone be they horsemen or blacksmiths or ploughmen, was packing their livelihoods into wagons. I watched from the window, everything of mine already in my pack, and slung across my shoulder.

"A sad sight, isn't it?" Gimli approached me, and took a glance out the window as well.

"How?" I asked. "They're leaving for their own safety. Homes can be rebuilt, crops replanted…lives are something that cannot be restored."

"Do you always think everything can kill you?" Gimli scoffed at me.

I was quiet, because in all truth, I thought anything on this quest capable of killing me. A bitter reality, but someone had to face it.

"I don't expect you to understand what it's like to live without a proper homeland, and to live away from the place your ancestors lived." Gimli lectured me. "You were born after that time. You and your siblings were lucky for that. But maybe if you were able to look past your own desire to save your skinny neck, you'd see how hard it is for these people."

I looked out over the village again, and realised that the people had taken on the air of the dead again, and moved about like shadows. Men leaving homes there great-grandfathers built. Land centuries of families had tilled. Women pacing back and forth and collecting dried fish and bread with empty faces, and sometimes tucking small trinkets in among the provisions, against Hama's words to not burden themselves with unneeded things. Children hiding their playthings protectively under their coats and cloaks, for fear a parent or guard would tell them to leave it behind.

Guilt surfaced in me then. Gimli was right, I was so happy to be leaving here and go on to somewhere safer that I ignored how an entire people felt about the subject. Given my own family history I should have known better.

"I'm sorry." I replied, with genuine feeling.

Gimli smiled the smallest bit. "Aye, you mean well…skittish as you are you mean well….enough of that though." He said, more firmly. "We have a whole city to move, and little time to do it. Put that apology into actions, and not words." I nodded, and slowly made my way out. "Get going." Gimli hurried me along. "Hurry, would you?"

I took off running. I found Aragorn helping some other men load barrels of provisions onto a large wagon. Wordlessly, I joined the line of workers, and began rolling barrels into the wagon, and carrying a few bags of salt up as well.

Aragorn noticed me eventually, and seemed mildly surprised. "Master Gideon." He nodded.

"Aragorn." I replied, passing onto him a bag of salt for him to place among the other supplies.

"You come to help us?"

"Upon Gimli's request." I answered honestly. "My apologies for not coming sooner."

Aragorn smiled lightly, and kept up the pace of his work. I kept along with him and the others, once looking up to the window where I had been and seeing Gimli looking down, pleased.

Just as the wagon was filled, Gandalf walked past, practically with a storm cloud over his head. Legolas followed him, and Gimli behind him. The elf shot Aragorn and I both a look that said that not all was going well between the king and our wizard. Aragorn climbed out of the wagon, and I scrambled over the salt bags myself. "Did it go well?" Aragorn asked Legolas.

"No, Theoden's choice does not bend, even with the wizard's advice." Legolas shook his head. It appeared that while the day had been spent gathering and packing for the rest of the city, Gandalf had spent it playing advisor to Theoden, trying to sway his opinion, and unsuccessfully.

Gimli sighed, and groused a little. "Helm's Deep! They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight." He shook his head. "Who will defend them, if not Theoden, their king?"

We followed in Gandalf's shadow until he entered the stables. One horse nibbled delicately upon the bead in my braid, it's eye catching the glint off the silver. "What are we doing in here?" I asked. "The stables are not a very secret place if you want to discuss something in private." I glanced around, looking for stable boys, but everyone was too occupied with packing their belongings, and the horses remained idle in their stalls.

"I am leaving, Master Gideon." Gandalf said.

"Leaving?" I echoed him. "Why?" I shook my head a little, and gently pulled my hair away from the horses lips.

"They have a full armoury here, and yet they leave so much of it behind…" Gimli criticized the choices of Theoden again.

"They cannot burden themselves with the weight of it all." Legolas defended them, lightly.

"Helm's Deep has saved them in the past." Aragorn joined the elf. "The people of Rohan once took refuge there, and held out an entire winter. Theoden is only doing what he thinks is best."

"There is no way out of that ravine." Gandalf warned us, for we were likely the only once listening to him on the matter. "He is walking into a trap, cornering himself." He entered Shadowfax's stall. "He goes looking for safety, but he will only find death. A massacre."

I was quiet, and felt life draining from my face then. Massacre, such a frightening word.

"Theoden will have a strong hold, but I fear for him…and for all the people of Rohan." The white wizard seemed worried for once. I had not even seen him look so concerned when he charged before a Balrog in his then-grey robes.

He turned to Aragorn. "They will need you, Aragorn, before the end. Theoden shall need you, though he does not see that yet. Rohan lies in your guidance, and your judgement.." He spoke very seriously. "The defense _must_ hold."

The ranger nodded, taking on all the responsibility bestowed on him so suddenly. "They will hold." He promised.

Gandalf pulled Shadowfax, sadled, from his stall, and mounted him. "The Grey Pilgrim, that is what they once called me…three hundred lives of men I have been walking this earth, and now I have no time!" He muttered to himself. He turned to us all once more. "Good luck. My search will not be in vain." He promised us. "Look to my coming, at first light, on the fifth day and at dawn, look to the East."

"Go now." Aragorn stepped out of Shadowfax's path, and we did the same.

The horse sprinted from the stable before Gandalf could even utter the words 'Good bye'. We stared as the wizard was carried away through the city and then onward to the open plains.

I sighed. I could have said any number of grim things, for it was easy to feel doomed then.

But I recalled Gimli's lecture, still fresh in my mind, and instead said, rather lightly, "Mother always said he had an awful habit of running off." I pulled my braid from a horses's mouth for the third time, and went to go drown my worries in labour. There had to be another wagon that needed to be filled with barrels and salt.

/

It took more than one day for an entire city to be prepared to uproot itself and then hold down in a fort. Torches had been lit for us to work long into the night, and those who were especially keen (such as Aragorn, who was taking Gandalf's words to heart) rose early when it still remained dark out. He probably had dark rings under his eyes from the lack of sleep he got that night.

Breakfast was quick, and then I buried myself in work again, this time beside Legolas, as we helped to empty out some of the armoury. Most of those working were too tired to exchange words, but I felt a question pressing on my tongue. Under the din of metal clinking against metal and store rooms being raided, I whispered to the elf "Will we need to use these?", as I passed a hatchet his way.

The elf looked around at the men, and then replied in an equally quiet tone, "Undoubtedly."

"How do you know?" I pressed.

"The wizard says so, and his judgement has proven itself many times before."

I did not know if he was speaking of the great battle my family had fought in years before my birth, or any of the other thousand times Gandalf could have come to the aid of others.

"Will I be called upon to fight?"

The look alone from Legolas's face, proved what I had known deep within my mind.

"Oh." I stared the swords and spears around me. "Very well then."

I paused before asking my final question. "Do you suppose I'm trained well enough for something like this?"

"That judgement I leave to Aragorn." Legolas replied. I frowned. "But I have seen you survive other clashes before." He added. "You'll know when you're face to face with them."

Face to face…swordsmanship was a very, close contact way to fight, wasn't it?

"Archery…"I muttered to myself. "I should have trained in archery…"

Beside me, Legolas had heard my mumblings and was now wearing an amused smile.

Most of that day passed in a sort of busy haze. Packing, rationing, gathering teams of horses. Eventually, I fell asleep on bench in the stables. My shoulder was shaken. My eyes snapped open, and even before I was completely awake, apologies for my resting when there was still work to be done started spewing forth.

Laughter followed all my words, bright, feminine laughter, and my confused head thought for a moment 'Fali?' and I saw the golden hair, and felt such relief at her presence.

"Fali." I beamed.

My eyes cleared them, sleep draining from them. I beheld the face of Eowyn, who had ceased laughing. "No." She said, kindly. "I'm sorry, I am not her."

"No." I shook my head a little. "You're not." I smiled as I toyed with the pendent of an otter around my neck, wondering if Fali was likewise fiddling with hers. "What can I help you with, milady?"

Eowyn smiled, impishly, and held up a blade, similar in make to her uncles. "I believe we promised each other a spar?"

"We had." I nodded.

"Lord Aragorn wished for me to train with you. He found me worthy of the task." Eowyn went on, grabbing my wrist and pulling me from the stables, and in fact out of the city walls. Beyond them, everything was quieter, and the landscape stretched peacefully on. I felt relieved to be removed from the air of anxiety within the walls, and for the chance to train again. I would soon need it.

"Do you know how to begin?" Eowyn asked, but I had already set myself to a ready stance. "Ah, good." She nodded, and stood ready herself, looking poised and alert.

"Well, this looks like it could be a challenge." I said, motioning to her stance. "You look ready for battle, much less a spar."

"The women of Rohan are known as shieldmaidens." She replied to the compliment. Mirth was in her eyes, and then she raced forward, her blade arching through the sky elegantly.

Things sped up then, and for a time there was no words between us, only defenses and strikes, and the odd smile or grimace when the other struck a little too close.

Eowyn was more relentless than Fali. "Do you ever stop moving?" I asked, in a puff of breath.

"Forgive me, it has been a long time since I was able to enjoy fights like this." She replied. "But I'm supposed to be training you, aren't I? Not striking you down to the ground." She slowed the smallest bit. "Should we stop and then I'll show you some of the finer points?"

I took my chance to land a solid swing against her blade, hoping it would be enough to loosen her grip. Eowyn held on firmly, but her look of surprise caused me to laugh, despite the lack of breath I had. Though the move had not been entirely successful it had been a decent enough threat as to what I could do.

"Fine, have it your way." And she lunged at me, and struck so close that I felt as though I had been cornered, though we were standing on open ground.

I shoved her. Whenever Aragorn got to close I either stepped backward or shoved him, driving my shoulder into his ribcage. I forgot Eowyn was a noble lady for five seconds and shoved her. When I had freed myself from her my eyes widened and I said "Oh! So sorry, milady."

Her reply was another swing that arched through the air, forcing my to carry my sword over my head to defend myself. "Such poor manners." She scoffed, though her tone was that of mock-scolding. "Who raised you?"

"Dwarves mostly." I said. "But my mother didn't have the strictest reputation of being a lady either." I thought of how the words came out and laughed. I would have to tell Eowyn of my mother and how the company had mistaken her for a boy when they found her. We'd need such light tales on the journey to Helm's Deep. "In fact…" And I puffed my chest out a little in a mockingly proud way. "I happen to be the third born son of Prince Fili, of Erebor."

"Prince?" Her reaction was that of surprise for a moment. Then that quickly faded among our strikes and jabs and she continued on with her offense against me. Aragorn had said that when you fought against someone all your titles dissolved. When you fought you were mortal, no matter the race. Whether you were a king or a stable hand, you were only a man fighting for his life or glory then, and all you needed was a level head and a steady hand. Titles meant nothing.

Eowyn, finally tired of so much running about and swinging her sword, stood firmly, and delivered a blow so strong and final that it tore my sword from my hands and soon I had them raised in defeat as she held me a swordpoint.

We stared at each other for a moment, both regaining our breath. "How ladylike." I teased.

Eowyn laughed.

"Come. I'll teach you how to do it." She said. "And how to strike through the air. Most of your strikes are level ones."

I was set to performing new strikes against the air, while Eowyn walked around me in a broad circle, eyes constantly checking over my form for errors. Her corrections were delivered in the form of short remarks, and sometimes she'd hold out her sword and tap it on my elbow or my ankle when she wanted me to correct my stance. When I my performance had bettered Eowyn spoke again, this time softer. "When I awoke you in the stables…" She started. "You called me by the name of Fali. Who is she? You are too young to be married but perhaps…?"

"Mahal, no." I groaned. "Fali is my sister."

"You must miss her terribly if you mistake me for her." Eowyn said. "You are a long way from home."

"She did not stay home." I replied. "She came with us. Fali is like you…a shieldmaiden in her own way. She wouldn't take no for an answer when her friends became involved. We were separated, our fellowship split apart." I sighed. "She now travels with two hobbits…she's somewhere out there, and hopefully safe." I ceased my practise, and my fingers fell upon the silver pendent again.

"You must have been very brave to follow her, and keep an eye on her."

I shook my head. "If anything it was the other way around. Fali is the brave one, I was just pulled along." I smirked. "You'd like her, the two of you are soon similar in nature and opinion that it's like you were separated birth."

"Was it she that taught you how to fight?"

"Some." I shrugged, as we started to venture back into the city on our own accord. "My family of course, a few instructors, Aragorn has taken up the task for now."

"He is good to take up that responsibility." Eowyn nodded, her gaze falling to her hands.

"He's risen to a lot of challenges." I agreed, thinking back to when he had accepted Gandalf's order to protect Theoden and Rohan. "I hope he has an easier time with everything the future. The Valar should know he has earned it."

After a pause I asked. "Do you think I'm ready to fight? In a battle, should there be one?"

"I should think you'd be able." She nodded. Those words were a comfort. "So long as you keep your mind unclouded by fear."

Those words were less comforting.

"Brilliant." I sighed. Fear, my seemingly inescapable weakness. I had too gentle a nature, sitting with my books in quiet corners, to not be afraid of dangers in the world.

"Don't worry, with any luck I'll be fighting along with you." Eowyn noted my discomfort.

"You are unafraid?"

She nodded. "I have learned to be unafraid of death."

"How?" And I waited for the secret of such spirited, brave lives to be told.

"Death is but the end of one thing. After death there is no pain, no suffering. We Men must all die eventually, mortality was our gift from the Valar so we could decide our own fates. The end may come sooner than we like, but we chose how we die." She grinned. "Death is the price of Men's freedom, I would be but paying my debt."

We parted soon after, and I fought to accept death as a natural phenomenon. Eowyn's words mixed with worries for my family and thoughts of pain, and the promise of safe, thick walls at Helm's Deep.

In the end, I fell asleep that night wondering how I would part from the world, what my fate would be.

 **Eowyn's speech comes from mythology described in the Silmarillion. It turns out death was actually supposed to be gifted to Men (even though immortality sounds much cooler) because that gave them the freedom to choose whatever path they wanted in life. This is why elves are so connected to nature and practically all of them are good. Somehow their fate is tied to the earth so when the earth is at peace, they are at peace and when the world is in peril they go off and fight. Men get to have choices...but they have to die.**


	29. Chapter 28 (Still brave)

"See that?!" I said, pointing and smiling brilliantly. I motioned to the little brook we walked along beside and shrubbery along it. "Oh, sweet, sweet green leaves!" Frodo smiled at my evident joy, and I continued to beam back, happy that we were all in good spirits and now had nicer terrain to travel. "You see that? Right there, Frodo, Sam?" I pointed just below a shrub who's branches dipped into the water gently.

"That would be a nest, Miss Fali." Sam smiled back.

"What kind, do you suppose?" Frodo asked.

"I don't know, and frankly I'm past caring." I laughed. "But a nest means birds and one in this place should mean many and that means decent things to eat!" I tapped Sam upon the shoulder. "Please tell me you still have that salt with you?"

Sam nodded. "It will make a fine roast duck."

"Ah, yes. Finally a feast of plenty for the three of us." I sighed, with a dreaming tone in my voice. "Smoked meat for the journey ahead…I'll even let Gollum have the duck eggs if we find any in the nest."

"You've taken up the way of the Shire, Miss Fali." Sam was grinning. "There are very few problems that can't be bettered with food."

There was suddenly a frenzy of splashing and our attention was collectively directed toward Gollum. He was rushing about in the shallows of the little stream and was pushing fish over the stones, and trying to grab them. "First lizards, then groundlings… now he wants to eat fish raw." I sighed. "Poor confused thing." He chased after his poor victims ardently.

"Hey, don't be wandering too far ahead!" Sam snapped over to Gollum as he splashed on ahead.

"Why do you do that?" Frodo asked.

"What?"

"Call him names, run him down all the time?" Frodo said. "It doesn't do him any good." He insisted.

"Because…because that's what he is Mister Frodo. There's naught left in him but lies and deceit." Sam tried to explain. "And I don't think he deserves any better, it's only the Ring that he wants, it's all he really cares about."

I hesitated. Gollum seemed just like a wild dog right now, a wild, and admittedly fairly stupid, dog. He did not seem very dangerous at a distance but the moment he started getting closer I worried. I had not forgotten his first impression on us, how he tried to rip the Ring from Frodo's neck, and attacked anyone who got in the way.

"You have no idea what it did to him." Frodo frowned. "What it is still doing to him. I want to try and help him, Sam."

"But, why?" Sam asked.

"Because I have to believe he can come back." Frodo replied.

"You can't save him, Mister Frodo. I doubt anybody could, even if they tried."

"What do you know about it? Nothing!" Frodo snapped.

I froze, being terribly reminded of my conversation with Gollum while I had been hunting. There were some things in this world that only bearers of the Ring were doomed to understand it seemed.

Sam looked hurt, and his eyes wandered from Frodo to me, and then he left Frodo's side to come to my own. At seeing his choice in company switch, Frodo replied, more gently this time "I'm sorry Sam. I don't know why I said that."

"I do." Sam answered, looking back. "It's that Ring. I've seen you, how it's taking control of you. You hardly eat, you can't seem to sleep. It's taking hold of you, draining you Mister Frodo. You've got to fight it."

"I know what I must do Sam, the Ring was entrusted to me. It is my task, mine alone!" Frodo was snappish again. He had been more temperamental and on edge in the last few days than he had been in his entire life beforehand.

"Aren't you listening to yourself?!" Sam shouted after him. "Don't you know who you sound like?" He sighed, exasperated. "There he goes, storming off now." He looked at me. "Go and talk to him Miss Fali. He listens to you. Maybe you can convince him we don't mean any harm by not taking to that Gollum character."

"I'll try Sam." I said. "I'll see what can be done."

"I didn't mean to rattle him so much." Sam assured me. "It's only that he's gotten so oddly attached to that creature. It's everything that's happening to him. Maybe if we can finally catch a decent meal and a good night of sleep he may start getting better." He looked at me, hopefully. "Do you think so, Miss Fali?"

"I certainly hope so, Sam." I said. "I'll go speak with him now."

I raced ahead a little to catch up to my friend. For a second I did not speak, but soon I cleared my throat. "Oi." I said, catching his attention. "Are you alright?"

Frodo was quiet. "I only ask because I have noticed that you've not been eating or sleeping as much as you should. It worries me sometimes."

"I'll be fine." Frodo replied.

"That's good news." I smiled softly. After another pause I asked the more serious question. "Why the sudden interest in saving Gollum?"

"I just want to know if he can be restored to normal." Frodo said. "For his own sake."

"Is that all?" I asked. Frodo hesitated, and I knew I was getting closer to the entire truth. "Frodo?" I pressed, lightly. "What is it?"

"I want to know for my own sake too." Frodo admitted. "Sam is right…I know I'm beginning to sound like him…I'm not trying to, but it's happening whether I would like it to our not. I just want to know if there's a chance I'll be able to forget all this once it's done."

"You want to know if you can be saved." I said, quietly.

Frodo nodded. "The Ring did horrible things to Gollum, I just want to make sure it'll not be able to do the same to me."

"You don't have to be afraid of the Ring doing anything like that to you Frodo." I insisted. "Last I checked you weren't crawling around on your arms and legs, grey as dust and shriveled and bald as an old man."

"But what if it is to leave it's mark? What if I grow old and…"

"That will not happen." I stopped him.

"But what if it leaves scars on my mind? Even I know Gollum is not…all there…there are parts of him that are darkened or lost…he is confused. It would be more reassuring if we knew if there was chance to find all those damaged parts of him and fix him."

A worry surged within in me, keenly reminding me of how Frodo had just spoken in the same manner as Gollum and how his friendship with us was now shaking and his ideas of loyalty bending under Gollum's favor. I shook my head fiercely.

" 'What if, what if'," I repeated his words. "If we keep worrying over what may happen we'll all go mad!" I huffed. "Listen to me Frodo Baggins, I've known you since you were only an infant, and there's not one part of you that was at all like Gollum. This quest has just—tired you-that's all. But we're getting rid of that thing, and after we finish watching it melt in the fire, we're going back to the Shire, and Bag End, and all that lovely peace and quiet. You'll be back to your normal self in no time."

"You're sure?" He asked.

"I'll not allow any other outcome!" I argued back. I realised my voice had risen in volume, as if shouting the words made them more true. "Let's speak of this no longer." I said, more quietly. "That Ring will only be around your neck for a few more weeks, not the next few centuries." Frodo nodded ans his hand wavered over the Ring, as if he suddenly realised it would not always be around his neck. "Ah! Don't!" I snapped again, and swatted his hand away.

"Sorry." He quickly apologized. "It's becoming something of a habit."

"Well, try to focus on breaking it." I said. I smiled at him, more encouragingly. "Sam and I only mean the best for you. Seeing you this troubled makes him awfully worried, and it puts him on edge as well."

"And you?"

I scoffed, jokingly. "I'm never on edge." I smirked. Frodo laughed at my words. "Good to see you back to high spirits again." I said. "Now, go and walk beside Sam again. It'll help the both of you. Leave the troubles about your well being to me." I tapped the sword at my belt lightly. "I can help you Frodo, no ill will befall you with me around."

Frodo nodded, and turned to go back to Sam. "Fali?"

"Yes?"

"You'll try to help Gollum too?" He asked, casting his eyes down a little, as though he were nervous to ask such a thing. "It would only be fair…"

I sighed. "If anything can be done for Gollum—and I don't expect there is a lot that can be done for his sake – I'll see that it is done." I turned serious. "But to be clear, I'm doing it for you, seeing as you've taken him so close to heart. If that whiny, shriveled thing came up to me and asked, I'd say no."

Frodo looked relieved. "Thank you Fali."

He returned to Sam, who smiled in direction and the two walked on again as companions, as though no bickering had taken place at all. "Don't thank me yet, Frodo." I muttered to myself.

Gollum poked his head out of the bushes to look at me with a bony fish tail in his mouth. The creature grinned at me, and I didn't know whether it was meant to be friendly or menacing. It made me feel suspicious either way.

How on earth was I supposed to help that thing?

/

"Leave now and never come back." I shifted hearing noise.

"Who's there?" I murmured.

"Leave now and never come back!" I tensed hearing the words again.

"Show yourself!" I demanded, more loudly and I reached out for my blade by my side. I sat up., sword in my hand.

I did not expect to see Boromir sitting in our camp. He was dripping wet, seeming to have stepped out of the Marsh and into this dream, and he sat upon a small hill of fish bones.

"Boromir…" I said. "I'm sorry." I dropped the sword quickly, as though it were hot iron.

"Princess." He smirked, murky drops of water dripping from his chin and hair as he nodded at me with respect. "Fali." He added, just as my lips began to move to tell him there was no need for such titles between friends. He smirked, knowing my reaction all too well.

"I've kept them safe." I pointed to the slumbering forms of Sam and Frodo. "And better fed too, now that hunting has improved more." I rushed to the side of Frodo. "Frodo? Frodo wake up Boromir is-"

"He will not awaken Fali, no matter what you try." Boromir raised a hand and stopped me. "This is your dream, and your dream alone."

"How very cryptic of you." I smirked back. "All the same it is nice to see another familiar face. We've had a few more…close calls…"

"Is it everything you expecting it would be? This adventure…was it all you had hoped for as a child?"

"In my dreams as a child I was fighting off dragons and trolls." I smiled, getting up and bringing my cloak to him to throw over his wet shoulders.

"Do you find their abundance quite lacking? Would you rather they suddenly appear?" Boromir joked with me.

"Oh no, no they may stay where they are." I assured him. "In all honesty, I am glad there has been no need for me to really use my sword yet. But I will, when I must help Frodo with his burden."

"You have taken on quite the burden yourself." Boromir replied. "You have plenty of worries of your own, yet you take on others as well, almost as if you have the whole adventure planned out in your head, like you did when you were young."

"The hobbits are unused to such things." I said.

"Used to such things?" Boromir asked. He frowned. " You make it sound as though you've been on an adventure before. And I can't remember if you've ever told me you have been." He almost laughed. "I don't think you'd be able to keep such a thing a secret if you had, you would have been all too proud of yourself."

I rolled my eyes. "So adventure is new to all of us." I shrugged. "It's easier for those who have grown up on stories of glory and valor and epic journeys."

"Not all is well, Fali." He said seriously. "Even you must see it through your childhood dream, and your optimism. You cannot say that you feel as though all is perfect as it is right now."

"Gollum…" I sighed voicing my concerns, with a groan. "I wish he would just venture off into the wild one of these nights. If he goes on speaking under his breath and lurking everywhere my nerves will fray to mere threads." I sighed. "And to make matters worse Frodo has befriended him, in a strange way. He wants to try and reverse the effect the Ring had on Gollum."

"Something I believe you said you'd help him with."

"Please don't throw what I already know back at me." I said. "I know very well this time that all this is only a dream."

"You were saying something about Frodo?" Boromir asked again, setting me back on track.

"He's losing himself, just as you did." I frowned. "His mind is starting to turn on him, he puts Gollum's well-being over that of his own, he's too attached to the creature entirely…and he's starting to isolate himself." I looked up at Boromir, an apologetic look on my face for bringing up his fall from grace the last time I had truly seen him. "I'm sorry." I muttered. "I wish I could ask you how you're fairing. I would give anything to hear that you and the others were alright….Aragorn, Merry and Pip…"

"Gideon?" Boromir asked understandingly, his gloved hand patting my shoulder.

My hand fell upon the silver pendent around my neck, in the image of a bear, and I held it close to my heart in a tight fist. Gideon should be nearly home by now if he had traveled well. I wondered what he would tell our family when he arrived without me. Hopefully they did not think it had been my plan all along to get rid of him, and that I had only seen him as my chance to join the Fellowship. I briefly wondered if he was also holding onto his gift from the lady Galadriel.

"I'll see him again." I said, with determination. "You'll be so proud when you see me again, and I'll be able to really tell you all that happened and how I fought through it all. How I stayed brave, how I stayed strong." I smiled. "Just as you told me to."

He nodded. "Whatever the lady commands."

I awoke suddenly, not knowing when my dream had ended and where Boromir had gone or what had awoken me at all. The excited chattering of Gollum alerted me that he was the culprit. "What have you done now?" I sighed, annoyed.

"Look what Smeagol finds!" The creature paid me no attention.

"Sam, what has he found now?"

"Rabbits, Miss Fali." Sam replied. I opened an eye to see that such was true.

"They are young, and tender, yes, yes. Eat them. Eat them." Gollum went on about his successful hunt. He then proceeded to pick up the body of one rabbit and snap it's spine in two with a sickening crack. The poor rabbit was folded in half at it's mid-section. I grimaced, and Frodo looked as though he may be ill at having witnessed something like that so close to his face.

Sam intervened on our behalf as Gollum attempted to eat the rabbits raw, as he had with everything else that had the misfortune of being his prey. He snatched the animals away, and scolded Gollum (or Smeagol, I was truly confused over the way with which he referred to himself) for acting like a beast. "There's only one way to cook a brace of croneys." He said, and then, looking happier than he had in a long time, he pulled out the pot we had brought along with us and began to cook.

"Oh Sam, you're one of the dearest people in the world." I grinned when the hare was almost done, transformed from animal to a lovely looking pot of stew. Sam's box of salt and spices had been put to good use for the meal.

Sam flushed under my praise, too modest about his skills to say anything. "Thank you for such an opinion, Miss Fali."

I rolled my eyes a little. It was going to take two hundred years at this rate for Sam to stop calling me 'Miss'.

"What's it doing?!" Gollum shrieked, returning from hunting down lizards again. He stared at the stew pot in horror. " _Stupid_ , fat hobbit! You ruins it!"

"What was there to ruin?" Sam shrugged, glaring back. "There was hardly any meat on them."

"Leave him be, Gollum." I spoke firmly to the creature, as if I were separating naughty children. "He's only cooked it through. Decent food is cooked, not eaten raw from the bone."

"What does it know?!" Gollum turned on me. "Nothing!"

"What we need now is some nice taters." Sam said to me, in a bought of wishful thinking.

"What's taters, precious?" Gollum looked up curiously, his swiftly changing mood making me all the more confused by him.

"Po-tat-oes." Sam deliberately spelled it out for him, as the two engaged in an argument about the versatile vegetable. "Even you couldn't say no to that."

"Yes, we could!" Gollum spat right back. "Give it to us raw…and wriggling!" He spoke, trying to get a rise out of Sam. "Keep your nasty chips."

"You're hopeless." Sam sighed, heavily. He looked over to me. "He's hopeless."

"Let him eat whatever he wants Sam, there'll be more for us." I split them apart again. "He seems to fill his stomach well enough on his own."

The stew was distributed, and as I ate I thought of how I could possibly help Gollum's shriveled soul. Perhaps if I managed to get him to eat something besides raw meat it would help him. Remind him that he was in someway still human.

I watched as the creature sulked, staring at me and Sam as he chewed on another poor lizard.

"He really is hopeless." I sighed quietly to myself. "What have I done, trying to help him?" I caught his eye again. "I must know nothing…" I joked to myself once more, under my breath.


	30. Chapter 29 (Trapped)

" Mister Frodo, what are you staring at?" Sam asked, and I looked up to my friend, who was staring off into the air again, as if he was looking for something. "You've hardly touched the soup."

"I can hear something." He replied. "Can you not make out the noise yourself?"

I tucked my hair behind my ear, exposing it to the air again, and listened carefully. There was noise, to be sure. But it sounded like nothing out of the ordinary. The creak of branches, the whistle of wind, the stirring of birds. "What do you hear that I can't?" I asked.

"Something…" Frodo answered vaguely, not too sure himself. He rose from his spot on the ground and began to wander off. "I'm going to look around."

"Not without me." I stood instantly, putting the rim of my bowl to my lips and downing the last of the soup in one gulp. "The last time you were left to your devices you decided to run away." I tossed my bowl to Sam who hurried to catch it, and fumbled with the object briefly, before holding it close to himself and saving it before it smashed into the ground.

"Careful, Samwise." I nodded in his direction, and winked, so he would know I meant the words jokingly. "Hurry and pack everything away. It looks like we'll be moving on again."

"But there's still soup."

"We've eaten some of it." I nodded. "Down the last of it yourself if you wish."

Sam sighed, relenting. He drank much of the remaining broth quickly, poured the rest over the dying coals and stashed the soup pot and bowls away. "If anyone were to listen to me," He said. "I'd say we'd do much better sitting around and finishing the soup than going off searching for the source of strange noises." He shook his head slowly. "No good will come of it…no good at all."

I patted his shoulder kindly. "Have a little faith, Sam. It's likely nothing, and we'll be on our way." I stretched a smile across my face, forcibly adding some joy into our weary atmosphere.

We began to follow Frodo, with Gollum lurking his way about in the shadows behind us. The sound of creaking branches grew more intense, and I raised a n eyebrow curiously. Glancing up into the canopy I saw there was not enough wind to warrant such noise. Perhaps there was something out there. Carefully, for Sam was right beside me and might see, I placed my fingers over the hilt of my blade, preparing for the unknown.

Frodo, whether by similar methods to my own, or by some other nature, seemed to realise that his assumptions had been correct and quickened his pace to an brisk walk, up to the top a hillside, where he looked out over the landscape to the forest opposite us. He sank to the forest floor, lying upon his stomach. I placed my hand firmly on Sam's shoulder blade and guided him down to the ground myself, then flattening myself to the ground. Gollum crawled up beside us (luckily he was always close to the ground, so there was no need to push him further into the grass and dirt), looking rather agitated, perhaps even nervous, and glancing down from his place.

I glanced up, and saw them. Hundreds of men, their skin dark from the sun, clad in armor, and marching together. Light glinted off the tips of spears and the hilts of swords. An army…a very intense and well trained army. Sam sank even lower, and I craned my neck to get a better look.

"Who are they?" Sam asked.

"Wicked men." Gollum spat out, distastefully. "Servants of Sauron, called to Mordor…gathering armies, all armies…won't be long now…" He coughed a little. "Almost ready."

I did not like the sound of that. But I was too captivated by the men, and the marching and the shining spears. There was suddenly a low pounding sound, almost from deep within the earth. It shook the ground beneath us, sending vibrations up. For a second I thought I had imagined it, but it repeated itself, the shock waves radiating up.

"Do you feel that?" I turned my head, to Frodo, still keeping myself low to the ground. Another quake came from the ground. "That! Surely you felt that one."

Suddenly there was an even greater creaking of branches, in fact I was quite sure they were being torn to splinters, and a strange sound I had never heard before. I looked up and saw the most unusual creature I had ever seen in my life before. Something with grey, wrinkled skin, and tusks like a boar has, only much longer and sharper, and the most unusual nose, longer than anything on a creature before. All this was amplified by the fact it was incredibly huge. Dare I say, the size of a small mountain. No wonder the ground was shaking.

"Mahal…Navestal…" I breathed in awe. Great platforms, filled with more men, were strapped by a series of ropes and bindings to it's backside, the bulk of the animal making it strong enough to carry such a load. "I'd hate to be underfoot one of those things."

"Look Mister Frodo, an Oliphant." Sam seemed partially in awe, and partially nervous. While we were a safe distance from the beast now, we'd hate for it to come any closer. "No one will believe this back home."

No one will believe this back home…the thought repeated in my head, and I stared up at the one Oliphant in wonder, committing every detail of it to memory for the sake of telling my family how I had gazed upon such a creature, tiny in it's shadow. This was one of the most exciting things I had ever seen in all my life. Frightening…but exciting too, and the part of me that loved adventure and thrills was dying to get a better look.

I raised myself up on my elbows slightly, hoping to see more of the Oliphants and the wild men.

A calling sound came from them, and Gollum backed away in a hurry. "Suddenly skittish are we?" I asked after him.

"Do you suppose he'll leave us for good?" Sam thought to ask.

"Sam, he's welcome to travel with us still." Frodo reproached him.

"He'll come back." I shushed them both before an argument could take place. "He has thus far."

A sudden change came over the men, as their tight, perfect arrangement began to break apart into a disorderly and fluid mess of people. I furrowed my brows together, eyes squinting to see what was happening from our place.

"What's going on now?" Sam asked, and he made to stand straight up, and Frodo jostled, preparing to get up on his knees and more into view. I slammed my hands against their shoulders, nailing them both to the ground and gripping their shirts with my very nails.

"Stay down." I hissed. "We cannot be seen." I caught a sharp whistle in the air, something like a small hiss. My mind thought of arrows, having heard so many fired before from my Uncle's bow or from my cousins. The men were being attacked, and a caught the incredibly quick passing of an arrow, a small disruption in the sky that you can mistake as blinking at the wrong moment. Most of them were being shot in the direction of the Oliphant, and this was causing the creature a great amount of distress. From beneath my stomach it felt as though the earth was jumping out of it's place with each of the creature's rushed stamps.

Despite being drawn to look toward the sight of destruction, my mind deciphered that the arrows were coming from our direction. Meaning, we were not alone in this forest, if they had such a decent view of the Oliphant, they were not at all far away…whoever _they_ were. I snapped up to my knees, drawing up the hood of my cloak for a little more concealment. "Time to leave." I said, the ground quaking more violently underneath us. One frightened Oliphant began to charge toward us, making a dangerously straight path.

I swore, a rather unladylike word coming off my tongue. "Get up! Frodo, Sam!" I gripped them under their elbows and tried to pull them all up and throw ourselves backwards, Mahal willing we'd fall back down the hill and toward safety.

An arrow, fired frightfully close by where we were standing, landed in the heart of one of the men up on the platform. Perhaps he had been the one controlling the path of the Oliphant, for it veered off to the side, avoiding us, but only just. The body fell directly before us, and Frodo and Sam were attached to my side as we all shivered involuntarily at how close we were to being stamped out of existence.

The beast retreated, and Frodo said shakily "We've lingered here too long. C'mon Sam, Fali."

"The attackers are close by, we have to hurry." I pressed them. "Up! Get up!"

I turned on my heel just as a cloaked figure broke out of the trees. My hand flew to my sword, and I unsheathed it, standing ready. The man took out a blade of his own, and held it out as well. I took that as a challenge and struck against his sword with as much strength as I could muster. His sword was thrown off it's course, and it took him a second to regain his balance. I was ready when he recovered himself, striking back again, and ducking out the way to avoid his own attack. I swung broad, and fast, trying to get him to step back far enough away from the hobbits. He did not move far. With deadly intentions I jabbed at his left side, hoping to catch him along his hip.

He caught my movement and defended himself well, throwing me off balance, and as I recovered, and prepared to repeat my course of action, our swords crossed in a deadlock, and I heard, in a tense voice "Fali.", from behind me. I dared to glance behind me briefly, and saw both Frodo and Sam at swordpoint from other men. From the look of things, another man in similar garb to his peers was going to place his blade right against my spine. He was eyeing the man I was currently crossing swords with, as if asking if he required aid.

"Miss Fali." Sam called out to me, both in his own call for help and to warn me we were outnumbered now. The adrenaline in my system refused to fade away. I did not know these men, did not trust them just yet. The fact they had been shooting at our common enemy meant little.

I was forced to relent, lest I be taken as a threat and stabbed for it. I removed my sword quickly from the deadlock and jumped backward to Frodo and Sam's side, the blade still raised defensively. A dark scowl was on my face.

"Who are you?" The man who had fought with me demanded of us.

"We are innocent travelers." Sam spoke up.

"There are no travelers in this land." The man replied, looking down at us with a suspicious eye. "Only servants of the dark tower come here now."

"Then what are you doing here?" I replied, feeling anger bubbling forth at being stared at in such a way. "You don't make yourself sound very promising."

He glared at me even harder. "I would not speak with a tongue that loose." His reply was icy. "You are surrounded by unfamiliar faces, and you'll meet tempers shorter than your own." He glanced at all of us again. "I'll ask again: what are you doing here?"

"Our errand is one of secrecy." Frodo spoke up. "Those who also oppose our enemy would consider it best to not hinder us."

"Avoiding my question does you no favors." The man replied.

"We mean you no harm." Frodo pressed on for us, and I threw back my shoulders, standing beside him, proud of my hobbit friend and his courage. "Let us go, and you will never see or hear from us again, this we can promise you."

"How can we trust what you say? You've given us no reason to place our faith in you. For all I know, you may be on a journey to the Dark Tower."

"Do we look like people capable of doing something like that?" Frodo played upon one of the only advantages we had in our case, how short and unfamiliar with dangers like this we looked. "Do we look like the enemy to you?"

"The enemy?" The man raised an eyebrow. The man finally turned over the body of the man from on top of the Oliphant. "A Southron." He said, grimly. "One with a dense of duty equal to yours, I suspect." He smiled, the gesture brief and cold. "I wonder what his name was, where he came from…if he was truly evil at heart. What lies, what threats lead him so far away from his home? Perhaps he came marching proudly over the land with his brothers…perhaps he wanted to simply stay home in peace."

The words made me think of Gideon, how I had dragged him along. He was safe now, surely. But I wondered, suddenly thinking about the matter, how his mind dealt with his fears and his worries. The Southron had an arrow in his side…Gideon likely had a few scars on his mind. I was responsible, in part, for putting them there. I had hurt my brother, pushed him against his nature. I had known him to be wary and gentle, and I had brought him along expecting him to become as enthusiastic as I was.

The man caught me staring at the body on the ground. "War will make corpses of us all." He finished. He looked to his men. "Bind their hands."

My wrists were grabbed roughly, and the man who had grabbed me twisted my hand, forcing me to drop my blade to the ground. I raised my leg, preparing to deliver a swift kick to his knee. Perhaps if I kicked hard enough I would be able to tear myself from his hold, then I could pick up my sword, grab Frodo, grab Sam, dash it all with Gollum he had drawn his lot and left us for the time being and I felt little qualms about leaving him behind…then there was to be the issue with the other men, but perhaps if I was fast enough, and aggressive enough my sword we could manage to escape…then there was the question of where we would run. We were still following Gollum and there was no searching for him in the chaos that would ensue.

I had to admit, bitterly, there was no escape from this. We were too outnumbered in this case, and they were too close to us already. One of us may get hurt. One of us may get caught, and they'd be even less forgiving the second time they caught us.

The man caught me raising my leg, and guessed my intentions. He glared. "I would rethink your course of action, my lady, or else we may bind your feet as well." I glared back, and placed my foot back on the ground, straightening myself up for good measure.

"Quite the gentleman." I huffed quietly to myself. I watched as one man stooped to pick up my sword, and placed it in his own belt away from me. I eyed it longingly, suddenly feeling lighter without it's familiar weight at my side.

When we were bound the men began to walk off toward their camp and we were made to follow. "Fali…?" I heard Frodo speak up.

"Not now, Frodo." I whispered lowly back. I was still watching my blade, and feeling bare without it. Bare and unprotected and smaller than normal. I needed that sword back, and soon.

"But Fali-" He paused slightly, before becoming even quieter. "Do you think Smeagol knows where we are? Do you suppose he's following us now?"

Gollum. I had forgotten about him for the moment, his life suddenly invaluable to me when Frodo, Sam and I were at stake. "I don't know. Perhaps. He's drawn to your side. He's drawn to the Ring."

A brilliant idea suddenly came to mind. "Gollum…." I breathed, hope alighting in my chest. "Gollum can help us." I whispered, quick and near silent. "He found us once before, he will do it again. I'm nearly sure of it. He would not have gone far when he went off. He would have been able to hear something." I turned my head, back and forth, pretending I was only waving hair out of my face. "I can't see him, but I'm sure he's out there somewhere. If we can't make him out that means they won't."

"You suppose that he'll come to our rescue then?" Sam asked. "What makes you think he'll do that?"

"For Frodo." I replied. "For Frodo, and the Ring, and his promise to guide us." I glanced around at the men who had captured us. None of them were showing any indication they had heard us. "I think they haven't heard." I breathed. "Just keep quiet, and do as they say. Give them no reason to hurt you." My eyes darted over to the man who was leading everyone. "From what he said about the dead Southron, I think he has _some_ decency in him at least."

"Just what is your plan?" Sam asked me.

"We wait for Gollum." I finished, growing quieter with each word. "And when he comes back to us we convince him to untie us, and get us out of wherever we've been taken." I turned to Sam. "It looks like he has turned out to be useful after all."

They fell silent, and I pressed my own lips together, walking along. At one point I caught the man who had spoken to us looking over me, curiously. I looked right back at him, and smiled, bright and friendly (if mockingly so, under the circumstances). He appeared irritated, and also confused, by my apparent joy.

We both looked away from each other and my smile faded, returning to a look of concentration, trying to keep up with the broader steps of men, and figure a few more ways out of this, should Gollum not appear.

My sword glinted at me again, and I sighed heavily. I felt empty without it, and now I was relying on Gollum of people and creatures to save us.

For the first time on this adventure, I felt truly trapped.


	31. Chapter 30 (The wolves of Isengard)

Mother once told me how she had spent afternoons walking her way to Erebor, where she had heard nothing but Gloin's tales of his son, Gimli. Now, in a cruel and odd repeating of the past, I seemed to be stuck on the back of a horse, hearing nothing but Gimli's tales of his father, Gloin. My mind slipped in and out of attention to the stories, having heard most of them since I was a child.

"And that was when my father, Gloin, said…"

"In that case, lead on." He finished as I repeated the words myself, loud and clear.

Eowyn, who was being enchanted with the unnaturally long epic of the life of Gloin, laughed merrily, partly from the story of the entrance into Rivendell itself, and partly from the look on Gimli's face from being interrupted by someone who also knew this story by heart.

"Yes…his words exactly." Gimli recovered. "Would be also good to mention that the lad's parents were both there as well."

"And everyone still thought my mother was a boy, probably no older than you were at the time." I mentioned, joining briefly in the story telling.

"What?" Eowyn's interest was piqued. "A boy? But how?"

"The clever use of a hat and some pants…nothing much else…there were rather unobservant." I informed her. "That and she had a love for fighting which rivaled any boy's."

"Ahh, yes the fighting!" Gimli cleared his throat, another tale coming to mind. "Let it be known that it was my father, Gloin, who first fought with Rue, who is now Princess of Erebor, and while she was still in the guise of a young boy…" Eowyn smiled at me over how his attention went directly back to his father's travels and triumphs. She then became enraptured with his story of how Gloin and my mother had sparred once, with Gimli adding in a few details as to Gloin's strength, and admitting more quietly that he had lost his balance and been knocked off his feet by my mother. Eowyn was sympathetic as to his fall, but her eyes were still laughing with good humor.

The lady of Rohan managed to get our dwarf off the topic of his father and onto the matters of dwarf culture. Not a very large change in subject matter, but it was nice to not have to keep hearing 'my father, Gloin…'.

Gimli was going on about the craftsmanship of his axe and the great forges of the dwarves (to the point where Legolas tired it, muttering "Can he speak of nothing else?") when he glanced over to me. "Aragorn says you've been making good progress with the sword, lad."

I was a bit surprised to hear that Aragorn had spoken of my progress with the others. I had not heard much talk about my training from him, only the remarks when he was instructing me, and a comment at the end of each lesson as to my improvement, areas of needed correction and such.

I looked down at Aragorn, who was leading the horse I sat on. He looked up at me and nodded. My face must have been plainly asking if what Gimli said was true. Having the knowledge confirmed, I nodded myself, and said "I have improved a little."

"More than a little surely." Gimli nodded. "And you know what that means, right?"

"I…I'll fight in any battles we have?" I asked.

"No, Gideon, think." Gimli urged me. "Think!"

"I keep training?" I asked, not really knowing what the answer he had in mind was.

"Aye!" Gimli cheered. "This time, with an axe!" He beamed.

"An axe?" I paled. I glanced down at my arms. Was I even strong enough to carry around an axe?

"Yes, the great weapon of our kin." Gimli smiled. "Aragorn said as soon as you improved with the sword, we could take up teaching you how to fight with other weaponry."

I thought of what Gimli may be like as an instructor and probably went even paler.

"Perhaps you shouldn't put the weapon in his hands just yet." Legolas spoke up, noticing the startled look on my face, and likely picking up my shallowed breathing too. "It would be better if he focused on the use of lighter weapons first."

"Lighter weapons?" Gimli raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Pah! You just want to train him to fire an arrow before I have a chance to teach him anything." Gimli straightened up in the saddle of his horse, which Eowyn was leading. "The lad's half dwarf, he'll know how to wield an axe in no time, it's in his blood. He is, after all, part of the line of Durin."

"Half dwarf?" Eowyn turned to me.

"And half nymph." I added. "My mother is responsible for that."

"She must have been quite special to turn a prince's eye away from ladies of his own kind."

"There wouldn't have been a great deal of competition." I shrugged. "There are not very many dwarf women."

"Why?"

"No idea, it's just always been that way." I replied.

Gimli then became absorbed in detailing the scarcity of dwarf women. He painted a lovely picture of them, let it never be said that dwarf lasses weren't lovely. Brilliant, strong willed, sometimes stubborn or temperamental, but loyal and lovely and sharp of mind. No wonder my mother had fit in so well.

"In fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance that they are often mistaken for dwarf men." Gimli told her, at which she laughed lightly.

"It's the beards." Aragorn whispered, stroking an imaginary, long dwarven beard on his chin. Eowyn's laughter increased.

"Only some." I said to myself. "Most of them are mistaken from behind, but the front would quickly resolve that." I detached myself from the stories of my people and faced Aragorn again. "You speak of me?" I asked. "My training?"

"I do, on occasion." He replied.

"And you truly think I am improving?" I asked.

"Yes." Aragorn nodded. "You've grown used to heavier swordplay, your starting to become more offensive," He glanced momentarily at his hand which still bore a thin red line, healing from when I had accidently cut him a few days ago. "Your aim is also improving, though I don't know if that will become better or more dangerous for me."

There was the sudden interruption of Gimli falling from his horse, and getting up a little disheveled but quickly brushing grass and dirt from his clothes. "That was deliberate." He repeated a few times. "It was deliberate." I had my suspicions, but smirked over the whole thing instead.

"Soon you will no longer need more training…and all I will be able to do is practise with you, and challenge you more."

I smiled, glad with my progress. "Thank you." I said, as Theoden approached, noting how Eowyn was smiling so much. He was glad for it, and I was too, given her sadness when I had initially met her.

I looked ahead at the lady of Rohan, and found she was looking back at us, but her attention was focused mainly upon Aragorn. Oddly, this made my smile falter. I could not read much into her stare, but it held so much admiration, I couldn't help but observe that it almost resembled…affection?

I had always been rather observant, and smart, in my own quiet way, but her glance at Aragorn confused me. He already held Lady Arwen above all other women in his heart that much was clear. It was surely no secret among the people here that there was some woman in his life. Arwen's necklace had been worn around his neck every day, and everyone could see it.

The matter of Eowyn's opinion of Aragorn filled my mind for the rest of the day, as I tried to catch any more glances between them and try to make an interpretation of it.

The day's journey ended late, and there was not a man, woman, child or horse that was not glad when we at last stopped to make camp. After emptying out provisions for the weary travelers and aiding far too many people with the matters of tents and blankets and food, I was tired, a bit stiff in my legs from so much riding, and positively ravenous.

I began searching out familiar company and food at the same time, and caught Eowyn, just as she was leaving Aragorn. The two were alone, and she was smiling with her friendly admiration again. That confirmed what I had felt about everything. Eowyn had formed a sort of fancy for Aragorn, and it was clear any sort of feeling couldn't be returned on his part.

Not thinking very clearly, apart from wanting to stop any awkwardness or ill feelings before they began, I ran up and interrupted them. "There you are!" I said.

"Who? Aragorn or myself?" Eowyn asked which one of them I was inferring to.

"Both of you." I nodded, unable to choose one of them so quickly.

"Do you need anything, Master Gideon?" Aragorn asked.

"Nothing too terrible." I thought of something more to say. "Only supper. Oh!" I motioned to a half empty bowl of soup he was trying to discreetly discard. "If you're not going to finish eating it…" I grabbed the bowl, noticing only briefly how Aragorn's eyes widened a small degree at my actions, and his mouth formed a silent "No", then brought the rim of it to my lips…

…and took in a great gulp of the most vile broth I had ever tasted.

Spit it out! Now!, my brain screamed at me, and I made to do so.

"The soup was brought by Lady Eowyn." Aragorn said, and I paused, my tongue protesting and drowning the disgusting soup. "She made it herself." Aragorn stressed lightly.

I tried to swallow. Anyone can have my word as a dwarf and a nymph that I tried to swallow, but I could not. Instead, I was forced to suck the meal into one of my cheeks and mumble out "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Eowyn nodded, grinning happily. "Well, I'll take my leave now. There are more to feed. Good night."

"Good night." Both Aragorn and I replied, my words still mumbled through my full mouth.

As soon as she had vanished into the crowd, Aragorn emptied his bowl into the grass and I spit out the whole mess, practically gagging. "What was in _that_?" I asked. "The sole of someone's boot?"

"I thought of the taste of old saddle myself." Aragorn replied, and the two of us laughed over the horrible meal.

I could not tell if he had noticed any more of Eowyn's kindness and her glances.

/

Aragorn was wise and observant as well. He had noticed Eowyn's kindness, and the meaning behind it. He was also kind enough not to draw her attention immediately to his keepsake from Arwen, and instead waited with patience for her to notice it on her own, so he may speak of the elven lady then, when it was appropriate.

I slipped off my horse, gingerly, for the distance between me and the ground was a bit uncomfortable, and left them to speak of Arwen privately. No more interruptions from me, I thought. The soup was a punishment that I would remember in cases like this for ages to come.

I sought out the company of Legolas instead, as Gimli was still entertaining anyone who would listen with stories of Gloin and Erebor and dwarves. The elf was ahead of many, and following two horsemen that had set out to look ahead. I came up silently, and placed myself at his side, as we walked up a ridge which overlooked the rockier landscape that folded into a series of juts and overhangs at one side, and on the other stretched out like rolling hills.

Legolas was carefully watching the horsemen, and I swept my gaze over the whole expanse before us, finding it quite beautiful. It wasn't until my gaze fell back upon the elf that I noticed his face showed some concern. "What is it?" I asked.

"The horses are too restless." He replied.

The horses in question were anxiously moving about, and fighting back on the guidance of their riders. Their ears would flatten against their heads and their eyes would roll, and they would gnash at the metal between their teeth. Something was clearly upsetting them, though the landscape looked peaceful.

The riders were Hama, Theoden's captain and his second in order, Gamling. They seemed equally as confused by the horses behaviour in such surroundings.

Legolas's eyes darted from one place to the next, searching for the source of such ill, and finally found their ,ark when a creature much like a wolf, but more wild and large in appearance came lurking over the edge of the opposite ridge. I knew what this strange wolf was, though I had not seen one before until now. I had heard the stories of these beasts…the wargs.

Atop the warg was a rider, inhuman in appearance. An orc, it could be nothing else. The sight of them made my blood run cold. "Legolas…" I said, though we were too far away to do anything. We could not shout, for we'd be noticed ourselves. But perhaps the archer could let loose an arrow.

He could not though. The warg crawled over the ridge, saw Hama and Gamling, and darted to them, pouncing upon the them and the horses like a wolf does a rabbit. The jaws were wide, the fangs dripping with saliva, the claws extended.

I had never seen a man or beast torn apart so quickly. Hama was dead before Legolas could even pull an arrow from his quiver and prepare to fire. Gamling was lucky that he managed to shoot down the warg. Legolas ran to his aid of course, while I stood there with frozen veins, before my feet carried me with him. The rider fought with Gamling, who had been thrown to the ground by his horse, but Legolas was the one to sink a blade into a him and end the fight.

The rider called out, his voice echoing along the plains.

"A scout!" Legolas shouted back at me, as I finally neared them.

A scout meant more were on their way. Evidently our enemy did not wish for us to make it to Helm's Deep. They would rather finish us out in the open, in these rocky hills, where there was no place to hide.

I turned around and shouted the message back to the others, seeing their heads come into view. "It's a scout!"

This seemed to cause a measure of panic, so I knew that they had heard me correctly. Then men were climbing onto of fit horses, the women were picking up small children. I briefly saw Gimli holding up his axe. Gamling tried to steady his horse, who had escaped the scout's attack, very frightened but mostly unscathed. Legolas was climbing the next ridge, his bow in hand.

In times like this before I had always stayed rooted to where I was before, unable to move from my fear. But now I found that not moving scared me more, and left me feeling vulnerable to whatever was coming for us. I followed in the elf's shadow, perching myself atop the ridge.

There was an entire pack of wargs, many with riders atop them, some being guided by ropes to be set free and run wild and vicious toward us.

A sharp hiss came right beside my ear as the elf fired upon the charging beasts, and I stumbled back behind him again, drawing out my sword. It felt as though my heart was exploding with each beat, but I was too far away to be hurt or attack them myself. Only Legolas's arrows could make the stance. I watched in amazement as I saw one warg fall over, it's body skidding along the ground. It was dead, and by a single arrow. Legolas stood, reaching back his quiver for another, and in a fluid motion notching it, and firing it with fatal accuracy.

Archery, I thought again, I should train more in archery. It had merits in times like these.

The thunder of hooves tore my attention away from Legolas, and I saw a column of horses and riders charging at us. There were side by side, with so little space between them the rider's legs sometimes brushed together.

I turned myself sideways quickly, making my target as small as possible and hoping that the horses would part enough to avoid trampling me. "Gideon!" Aragorn called to me, and I saw him in the column. His hand was outstretched. "Grab hold!" He ordered. I clutched at his arm and hurried to throw myself onto the saddle. My mounting of the horse was far less elegant than Legolas's who weightlessly swung upon the steed Gimli was riding on. My one hand was rendered useless for climbing as I continued to hold onto my sword. "Hurry, climb on." Aragorn urged me. "Quickly!"

"I'm trying…" I said with a strained voice as I heaved myself upon the back of the saddle, my stomach being assaulted by the movement of the horse as I clambered up onto it. Eventually I managed to throw my other leg over the end of the animal and sit myself up.

There is no sound quite like that heard when two enemies meet in battle. I heard it before something actually attacked us. Something like a howl and the cutting of bone, and a clash of metal. I tensed behind Aragorn as our horse ran toward a warg and rider. Aragorn dropped the reins, letting the horse guide itself, and struck down the rider. I swung my blade and saw it cut across the wargs face, and it ran off, riderless and clumsy. It wasn't until the disoriented warg was felled by another one of our own riders did I realise I had blinded it.

I glanced down at my sword and found the streak of blood, carrying fine bits of fur from it's face. The image of the otter, my emblem, for good fortune was obscured by the mess.

I took up the rear defense, swinging at any riders who approached us from behind. Our horse was good, and kept a fast pace. The faces I saw were horrendous, one's with unnaturally greenish skin, and deformities. The eyes were inhuman, dark, sometimes even resembling the yellowish eyes of wolves or the diamond pupils of cats.

Time seemed to have stopped, as the only thing I could do was strike down an orc, watch it's body fall to the ground and shrink away as the horse ran on, scan the distance, see another come for us, and strike again. Sometimes I would see a corpse fly past the side of the horse, or the body of a warg tumble away, tearing the grass from the ground. Attackers from the front of our steed, dead by Aragorn's sword. I once caught him looking back at me, to see if I was managing, but only once. He trusted me at this point to fend for myself.

For a few seconds I felt proud…and then another orc came running by and I drove my sword into the pit of it's stomach.

I looked over the field then and saw the bodies on the ground. Not just orcs, but men too. Men who just an hour ago had been alive. My heart studdered, and the bravery I felt quivered and failed. I caught sight of a warg climbing atop one of it's dead pack-members and then saw that a man was underneath the mass of dead bodies. I recognized him by the beard.

"It's Gimli!" I pointed. Aragorn grabbed hold of the reins and turned the horse sharply. He pulled a spear from the carcass of another beast and drove it into the shoulder of the warg as we raced by. The creature fell, and I caught the breath being knocked out of Gimli, as his face went red with strain. For a moment I thought our friend had been crushed by the weight of all the bodies on him, but he struggled and began to crawl out until he freed himself.

"Is he alright?" Aragorn asked, looking back again at me.

"Mahal bless the sturdiness of dwarves." I grinned up at him.

There was a shriek, and suddenly Aragorn was knocked off the saddle, I saw my friend fall away, taken by a warg and rider. "Aragorn!" I yelled after him, and I panicked. I was too far back in the saddle and the horse was continuing it's run, the reins waving in the air away from my grasp. Without Aragorn to stabilize me, I was being knocked around vigorously in the saddle, and I had to crawl my way to the reins. An orc grabbed hold of one of the stirrups and blindly stabbed at him, twice missing my mark, and being pounded in the stomach again from being jostled in the saddle as the horse panicked. I finally struck across his neck and the orc fell, and I reached up and took the reins. I pulled upon them, wanting to slow the steed and turn it around.

The panicked creature reared back slightly at my control, and I was thrown from the saddle. The horse ran off, unstoppable. I stood up from the ground, dizzy, my head full of fog. Something knocked me to the ground again and I turned to find an orc wielding a hatchet. I grabbed my sword and drove it into it's thigh. It did not die, but fell and I ran off, my head still spinning before it could attack me again.

The fight was dissipating I noticed, as most of the dangers I encountered were still-living orcs trying to drive knives into my feet. "Aragorn!" I called. "Aragorn!" There was no reply, and I wondered if I was shouting loud enough to be heard over the last of the noise.

"Aragorn!" I stumbled on, and a hand landed on my shoulder. It was Gimli. "Gimli, have you seen Aragorn?" I asked, his image wafting into two Gimli's for a second and then settling back into one. My head was beginning to throb from my impact with the ground, as my entire back.

"No, not yet." Gimli answered. "Are you well?" He noticed how I was swaying.

"I was thrown from the horse." I answered. "A bit sore and dizzy, that's all."

"You look like a good wind could knock you over." Gimli retorted. Legolas came then, having searched among the dead behind me for Aragorn, and found no sign of him yet.

Aragorn was knocked off the horse by a warg and rider." I said. "We have to find him, he may be injured."

There was a heavy pause. "Let's keep looking." The dwarf said. "Come on now."

I followed them, trying to not meet the eyes of the dead.

We heard laughing, terrible, dark-hearted laughing. I glanced at the source of it, and recognized it. "Him." I gestured. "He was the rider."

Gimli must have looked a menacing end as he stood over the dying orc, axe in hand and poised to strike. "Tell me what happened and I will ease your passing." He growled.

"He's…" There was the sound of a wheezy cough, wet with blood. "…dead." This was followed by laughter, dark and sending blood dripping down the monster's chin.

"No." I said. "No, he can't be." Aragorn was too good a fighter to be killed in a skirmish of this size. I knew, for I had been taught by him, and had seen his swordsmanship with my own eyes.

"He took a little tumble off the cliff." The orc wheezed, a small, smug grin on his face. He looked at me, and laughed again. "You were the boy in the saddle weren't you?" He sneered. "A fine sight….you made, shaking on a…runaway horse." He laughed again. "He is dead."

Something in Legolas snapped and the normally composed elf, and pulled the orc up by the shoulders, jarring his injuries painfully. "You lie!" He hissed. The creature died laughing, curdling the blood in it's mouth. His dying gesture was to open his palm and reveal the beautiful pendent Arwen had given Aragorn.

We soon found ourselves at the cliff's edge, staring at the water running beneath. Legolas held onto the prized token of Aragorn's. I stared at the water, consumed with an anger and sorrow that would not abate. "He couldn't have…" I tried in vain to persude myself and the others the orc had been lying to us all along. "So he had the necklace…he could have grabbed it from his neck. He has to be lying, he's a creature of Mordor and Isengard, he's…"

"Aragorn is not among our living, nor our dead." Legolas said.

"He's gone." Gimli said, emptily. "This was where he fell."

Anger burned, sorrow ate at my insides. Guilt at having lived surfaced, it's face uglier than any orcs.

"What now?" I asked, swallowing thickly.

Theoden approached us. "Get the wounded on horses. Leave the dead…" He said to Gamling, with a deep sadness in his tone. "The wolves of Isengard will return." He turned to us. "Come."

I stared at the water until Legolas pulled upon my shoulder.

My teacher and friend was gone.


	32. Chapter 31 (Arrival at Helm's Deep)

With equally heavy hearts and minds we finished the journey to Helm's Deep. It had felt strange to sit behind someone who was not Aragorn for the rest of the journey. My gaze stayed fixed ahead, staring at the horizon, the growing grey dot that was Helm's Deep, and the backs of Legolas and Gimli. Everyone was silent, save for the horses, who whickered softly, and thudded the ground with their hooves.

I felt his absence keenly, because I was the last to have seen him before the end. And then I had gone, 'shaking on the back of a runaway horse'. I shook my head slightly. The orc's words were buried in my head and I fought to not pay them any attention. Aragorn would not want me to focus my thoughts on how the horse had ran off and then thrown me. Such things were not entirely in my control anyways. He would want me to concentrate on how I had been using my sword well, and defended myself, and try to figure out how to improve even more.

I sighed, bitterly. It was no longer 'he would want' but 'he would have wanted'.

Helm's Deep grew and became more than just a grey dot to us. It became a stretch of wall, rounded and solid and made of stone. It stood before us, and I could understand why the people had both agreed to come here for refuge, and yet remained apprehensive about leaving. It was safe, incredibly safe and sturdy. A fortress in every sense of the word.

But it was also grey, and dim, and void of much of the warmth and color and light that shone off of the thatched roofs back in the village.

A fortress…in every sense of the word.

We approached, and Gamling gave the order ot make way for the king, where upon the tall doors were opened and our party was allowed through, entering with the faces of victory, and trailing behind us the feeling of loss, for we had lost many men to the wolves of Isengard.

People were crowding along the edges of the walls, people holding children close and covering themselves with wool blankets and watching as the men returned and eyed up the food that had made it safely to our destination.

We're all becoming like shadows in a graveyard again, I thought. I caught the dwarf and elf looking back at me, and caught their grim looks. Fali would have pointed out anything optimistic about our circumstances, and I felt her absence keenly. I smiled, forcing the corners of my mouth upward. It was important to realise we were not yet doomed, that with Helm's Deep there was hope and safety. We wouldn't have as much food as we'd hoped for, having lost some of it along the way, given our encounter with the enemy, but there would be enough.

I cast my smile down to the people curled up along the walls. Some of them, mostly women with their children, grinned back at me. The subtle communication of hope, the silent way of saying 'it could be worse' or 'we've dealt with grimmer circumstances before'.

To see those hopeful smiles was enough to push away the thoughts of death for a short while as we navigated through the fortress, finding stables for the horses, and then beginning to unload the supplies we had with us, and get aid for the wounded.

"So few of you have returned." I turned around to see Eowyn, who had followed the men and horses, and was now greeting her uncle into Helm's Deep. She must have had her hands full while we were not here. There were so many people and so much organizing to do, and somehow she had managed to get all of it done, right down to making cots in an empty hall for the wounded men.

"Our people are safe." Theoden said. "We have paid for it with many lives." He removed his sadness, briefly, to look about at the progress his niece was responsible for. "Well done, Eowyn. Thank you."

She nodded, and as they parted I looked over to Gimli. "Someone must tell her." I whispered. I took a deep breathe, when no one else made much movement, and prepared to go to her, but Gimli stopped me.

"I'll go." He said. "Is your head still troubling you?"

"No, not now."

"If he starts wobbling all over the place again, get a healer to look at his head." Gimli said to Legolas. With this done, he approached Eowyn.

I hadn't the courage to look at her face as she was told the dreadful news. I could already see images of what it may look like in my mind, coming forth no matter how many times I pushed them back. The widening of her eyes, the silent gasp of her mouth, the welling of tears.

I could not have any such images confirmed.

Silently, I withdrew myself from the crowds. Theoden took up Eowyn's role as leader, and began to make the final preparations for fortifying Helm's Deep, ordering a watch to be set on all sides. Eowyn removed herself from the crowds as well, going somewhere private to be spend a short time grieving for all the people we had lost before she would throw herself into working alongside her uncle again. I searched the internal halls, until I found a quiet, though narrow, space which resembled a tiny market or open barrack.

Here I let out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding in me, and then unsheathed my sword and began to do practise by myself, hoping to ease my mind. I gave the exercises a good effort, but they did little to calm me. I could only focus on the absence of my instructor.

Eventually I gave up the use of the sword, and left to go look through the armoury to find something else to practise with. Something that wouldn't remind me of my friend. I managed to use my smaller stature an advantage, sneaking past the guards that were checking over the armoury and finding a bow, and a small bundle of arrows used for archery training.

I took these instead. "You did say you should have trained in archery." I muttered to myself as I snuck back to my tiny space.

I couldn't use much for a target except an empty crate that had just been emptied of dried fish earlier that day. I set it at one end of the space, and stood at the other. The bow I had chosen was a simple one, one for training more than anything. I reached down to the neat pile of arrows I had stacked by my feet and selected the first one, notching it onto the bowstring, and preparing to fire, taking a moment to aim at the crate.

Body sideways…

A breath, to ease away the memories of instructors that could not be here.

Left foot forward…

I took a final glance at my target.

Both eyes open now…

I fired, the arrow a bit too far to the right, but landing with a solid-sounding thud. I judged it as nothing exceptional, but fair. It was good to see I still remembered what I had learned of archery years ago, when I had tested out the bow as a weapon of choice. It had not been the saving grace I had hoped it to be, I had lost the taste for it after witnessing Kien, my cousin, take down a young stag. The poor creature had to walk a few paces before it fell and died. I had wanted it's death to be quick and painless but this was not always the case.

I reached down for another arrow, trying this time to fire it faster than before. This caused a fumbling of my fingers and the arrow was let loose before any decent aim could be taken and it struck against the wall beyond my target, the weapon bending upon the sharp impact.

Undeterred, I reached for another, this time firing it too far left. I was restless and reached for arrow after arrow, hoping the sound of them breaking into the wooden crate would help my mind go numb. It was of little use. My head still swam with the image of Aragorn, showing me where to step, and how I must hold my sword, and carefully correcting my actions. When I reached down for yet another arrow, and found that none of them remained in the pile, I sighed with exasperation. It was unfair. Unfair that someone who had such potential, who was such a leader by his very nature, was taken from us when we were starting to need him the most.

I picked up the arrows from the floor, and plucked them, perhaps a little harshly, from the crate. The one that had bent when it hit the wall I left discarded on the ground.

The wood cracked and tore as I ripped away another arrow. "Be careful." I was surprised to find I was no longer alone and jumped around to behold Legolas standing at the entrance of my private space. His step was always quiet, and my attention had been focused elsewhere, so I had no idea how long the elf had actually been watching me before he made his presence known. "You'll ruin the arrows that way." Legolas continued, making no mention of my surprised expression. "King Theoden will need every last one of them soon."

Finally I collected myself. "I'm sorry." I said.

"Your father taught you archery?" Legolas asked. "Or your Mother?" He knew of her too, and had fought before with her, on one occasion.

"No." I shook my head. "They could hold a bow, but neither of them excelled at it."

"Then your uncle, I'd assume." Legolas said. "He was the archer after all."

I stood myself back at my place at the other end of my training ground and restacked the arrows. "A close answer…" I said. "But he had his hands full with my cousins." I reached for an arrow, and notched it, taking aim more carefully this time. "It was my aunt who taught me." I fired, and it landed with a thud in the crate again, in the upper left corner. There was a brief silence, as I reached down to my pile again. "I am a little out of practise." I admitted, at last, breaking the silence. "She was brilliant though, and made a very patient instructor." I knew I was treading on unstable ground with the topic of my Aunt Tauriel. Mother had told me that the elven prince had once been very fond of her, but her heart was captured by my uncle first. There was nothing that could change her mind after that. It had been love at first sight, fast and fatal as lightening.

Being immortal, the time between her decision back then, and this moment now, must have seemed quite smaller to Legolas, though it encompassed my entire lifetime.

"Her sons would not accept her instruction?" Legolas asked.

"Oh, they did." I nodded. "But when they grew they were too fond of my Uncle, especially Kien, and they preferred to go out hunting and practising with him. Father-and-son bonding and the like of that." I smiled to myself, recalling younger years when I had seen the three archers wandering the halls together. "She let them, because she knew it meant the world to my uncle to have his sons adore him like that. They had many trials, bringing my cousins into the world."

"They should have trained more with your aunt, she was clearly the better archer."

I turned around, and began to defend my uncle. "My uncle was a great bowman, and just as good as my aunt. They were as matched in archery as my own parents were in swordsmanship." I shook my head. "Never mind the fact that I'm no longer any good at it, I'm probably her worst example of a pupil." I turned my attention away from him and picked up yet another arrow. "What would you know of her skill anyway?"

"I taught her." The words were almost snapped.

I felt a rather dwarven streak of stubbornness rise up inside me. "Even so, she chose to let my uncle train them." I fired, unsuccessfully. With a sound of heavy frustration I hung my head.

What had I done, pointing out rather bluntly who had gained my aunts favor?

"I'm sorry." I apologized. "She was very good. One of the finest I ever saw. I may have even been a good archer in time if I hadn't quailed so much at the sight of arrow wounds." I had a horrible feeling in my stomach, the feeling of having said something wrong and just wanting to erase the words I had said. I had never been good at conflicts, and it continued to stick to me stubbornly. Here I was, unable to stand my ground or properly apologize.

"Kien and Tauris did her proud though." I added, making a final attempt. "She may not have taught them all they knew about bows and arrows, but both of them and my uncle loved her like she hung the stars in the sky. " I shook my head again. "You don't need to keep watch over me any longer, my head stopped aching hours ago, I'm not going to faint or anything."

Silence, again. I broke it a second time, firing another arrow, this one smashing against the wall too, and bending out of shape. "Aragorn was right," I muttered. "I should be mastering swordsmanship first."

Legolas eyed the two broken arrows, and sighed. "You should be holding the bow closer to your body."

His show of patience was unexpected. I had a feeling that had I snapped at Gimli, the dwarf would have had some choice words for me. I supposed Legolas saw no reason to be annoyed or angered by my remarks, it was but a pittance of time in his life, and there would come a day in which I was long gone and such things would not even matter. Either way, his overlooking of my statement was an incredible show of restraint.

"What?" I knew it made me sound as though I had not paid attention, but some part of me needed clarification that he had not stormed away or bore me any visible ill will.

"You are holding it too far away, your hands shake and that is why you keep missing the center of the crate." He corrected me again.

I made the adjustment to my stance, and prepared to fire. "You need to draw it back farther." Legolas said before I could make the shot. "If you ever want to stand a chance of an arrow making it's way past clothing and chainmail, it should be able to pass through wood that thin."

I strained the bowstring, and took aim again.

"Farther." Legolas corrected again.

I gave him a look that read 'are you sure?', thinking that if I pulled the bowstring any more it would snap and lash against my face. The elf nodded at me. I pulled until the tension of the string could be felt keenly, digging into my fingers. When I tried to take aim again, the elf had further corrections. Before long the tips of my fingers had gone chillingly numb, the bowstring cutting into my unpractised skin, and my back was painfully straight, only making the entire stance uncomfortable. How my Uncle Kili managed this, or how my Aunt Tauriel ended up looking so graceful while shooting, was beyond my mind.

"Have you stood like this before?" Legolas saw the strain on my face. I still had yet to fire the arrow I had notched some minutes ago.

"I don't think so." I replied. I would have remembered the feeling, I told myself internally.

"Tauriel would have taught you correctly, she would have made you stand like this."

"Then I must not remember…it's rather uncomfortable, how on earth do elves make it look so simple?"

"You'll grow used to it." The elf nodded. He looked me over, scrupulously. "Your hands are still shaking, have you not found good balance yet?"

"Sorry, I can't feel my fingers any longer." I said. "I'm sure that's why I'm losing my grip."

"Take your aim and fire." He gave the order at last. I eyed up the center of my target and finally letting my arrow fly. It landed quite close to the center of the crate, the arrowhead deep in the wood. I hissed as sensation, tingling mixed with pain, flooded my fingers again as circulation returned. "That went well." I nodded at the arrow.

"It's not a horrible shot." The elf said.

"It's better than the rest so far." I replied. "How could it be any better?"

"You act like someone has cut off your fingers." Legolas nodded to how I was gently flexing my fingers.

Well…it was probably true.

"Try again."

"What?" I asked as I flexed my poor hand again.

"Fire another arrow." Legolas said, his face serious, like Aragorn's always was when he taught me.

What began as an argument dissolved into an archery lesson. Legolas would have me stand, arrow ready to be fired, for lengthy periods of time as he looked over my skill. Sometimes he would have me hold the position only to grow used to the discomfort it caused me. I would then fire, he would judge the arrow's success, and then order me to pick up another, leaving very little time for me to tend to the aching in my hands. I was beginning to think it was his subtle way of punishing me for my remark.

Eventually, our work became silent, and Legolas would simply raise his hand a degree to have me hold my arrow, and then lower it again to have me fire it. By the time the pile of arrows had been diminished, twice, my fingers were so pained I felt it was a miracle I still had then attached to the rest of my body.

I had the last arrow ready to fire, and when Legolas dropped his hand I did, managing to hit close to the center again, among the many other arrows protruding from the hole-marked box.

"Well done." The elf said.

"Shall we start again?" I asked.

"No, tomorrow will be burdened with work." Legolas answered. "Rest your hand."

With some difficulty I dropped the bow, my one hand seeming to have fused to it with it's grip.

As I was rubbing my tired hands together, Legolas spoke again, not facing me. "She's going to die, eventually, isn't she?"

I did not have to guess of whom he was speaking. "Yes, she will." I answered. "Eventually."

"I still don't understand why she chose such a life." He said. "Why she chose for there to be an end to her."

"The rest of forever would have been a long time to live without her family." I replied. "Great tragedy can kill elves, can it not?"

He nodded. I had a feeling that for Legolas, forever was an awfully long time to live without his friend.

Eowyn's words came to mind and I recited them as best I could. "Death is but the end of one thing…with mortality came freedom. She will have a debt to pay. But seeing as it gave her the family she has, I don't think she'll mind paying it."

I did not know when Legolas and my aunt had last seen each other, face to face, but I imagined her change in appearance, how she had aged and he had not, was a shock to them both.

Silence again, but this time softer, and bearable, as I quietly retrieved the arrows.

"I spend hours looking for you…" Our heads shot around to behold Gimli in the entrance, growling at us. "…and _this_ is what I find!" He eyed with fury the arrows in my arms. "Archery!" He pointed at Legolas accusingly. "Of all things the lad could be learning, you find him and teach him archery!"

"He wished to learn." Legolas shrugged.

Now it was my turn to have Gimli's distaste directed at me. "So you want to extend your skills to other weapons, eh?" His eyes narrowed at me. "Did I not offer to teach how to wield an axe?"

"Well, yes Gimli, you did offer, but-"

"And now you've gone off and taken the elf as an instructor!" The dwarf huffed. He turned back to Legolas. "The next person to put a weapon in his hands and teach him out to use it is going to be me!"

"But-"

"We start tomorrow." Gimli announced.

We watched as the grumpy dwarf scoffed at the arrow target, and then stormed off.

"By tomorrow I won't have any fingers left." I sighed. We both smiled as we listened to the last of Gimli's footsteps echo away, amused.


	33. Chapter 32 (The dead and the trapped)

"Well, putting these things over our heads wasn't very polite of them." I said sarcastically, my voice low. The three of us were standing _somewhere_. I had no idea where, for they had put black hoods over our faces and then continued to parade us around in circles (at least it felt like circles) until finally we entered some sort of keep, though I could not tell if it was a cave or tent or house. I had since just closed my eyes, not able to see even a chink of light.

"It's not the hood I'm so worried about, but the people who put it on." Sam whispered back.

"We'll get out of here soon." I tried to build our spirits again. "There is still Gollum, and he must have followed us…"

"Our savior…" Sam replied, his own tone sarcastic now. "If all our hope lies in that creature now, we're doomed."

"I have faith in him." Frodo said.

"He'll come to find the Ring." Sam muttered. "We're just the three people who happened to be attached to it in his eyes."

"Having Gollum as a rescuer is better than having no rescuer at all." I concluded, before any more ill words could come between them. I sighed, and then added, amusedly, "If I stand here with my eyes closed a moment longer, I will fall asleep upright."

Without notice a hand reached over my head and pulled away the hood. My eyes smarted briefly, but the cavern we were in was dim and I saw Frodo and Sam had their hoods off as well. The man who I had spared with, who had lead those who took us, was seated across from us, on a few boxes. I resumed my glare from before, but it did not produce much effect, apart from a meager annoyance.

"My men tell me you are orc spies." He started.

"Spies!" Sam retorted. "Now wait just a minute."

I laughed softly to myself. Orc spies. Who in all of Middle-Earth would take us for orc spies? It was clearly a lie to get a bit of truth out of us. My snickering had a larger effect than my glare did, for the man glared back at me this time.

"If not spies, then who are you?" He proved my assumption, and I smirked. His glare hardened a degree.

I quite enjoy this game of faces, I mused internally. Finally, something I could use to fight back a little. Maybe this would be a spar of sorts that I could win.

The hobbits were smart, and stayed silent, which only serviced to make my smirk seem all the more mocking.

"Speak!" The man ordered, his tone turning harsh. My lips stayed pressed together in the smirk.

"We are hobbits of the Shire." Frodo replied, after some hesitation. My smirk faltered, and I felt as though I had taken an attack in the spar of glares and smirks. Quickly, I set a stoic glance on myface and kept it there. "Frodo Baggins is my name and this is Samwise Gamgee, and Fali of-"

"Frodo." I snapped, cutting him off before he could reveal anything more about me. Why had he decided to give up our names?

"Your bodyguard?" The man nodded in Sam's direction.

"His gardener." Sam replied, jokingly, and clearly not in any mood to be questioned.

"Then the lady surely?" He glanced over at me.

"I'm just here for moral support." I found I could smirk again. "Of course, the sword I had with me had it's useful points."

The one I had pointed at him earlier in particular, I thought to myself.

"And what of your skulking friend? He had an ill look about him."

Once again, my smirk was cut back. He knew of Gollum. How? Had he seen him before? Had he noticed him after we had been taken? If so, then the creature had followed us. But our element of surprise was clearly gone now.

"There was no other." Frodo replied. He spoke firmly, but his words still seemed to fall short of being completely believable.

Thinking quickly, I turned my head toward Frodo the smallest bit, and whispered, more loudly than was needed "I _told_ you we were being followed."

"What?" Frodo seemed confused by my statement, as I had more than enough encounters with Gollum to last my entire life.

I replied, whispering loud enough to be heard by our captor, "There _was_ something following us."

He seemed to catch on, and fell quiet again. With any luck, our connection with Gollum would go unnoticed, passed off as a mere coincidence. The less we knew about him, the better.

"Regardless," The man continued and I had the chance to take a calming breath, glad we had evaded the topic of Gollum, "We still have reason to believe you are a danger." He stared at us, coldly. "I would confess what you are doing out here, if you wish to live."

My expression leveled again, and a tense silence fell for a few minutes, as the three of us looked at each other from the corners of our eyes. Fortunately, we were doing nothing wrong, but neither could we reveal what we were doing exactly. My eyes fell to Frodo's shirt, and I was relieved to find the Ring was not peeking out from between the buttons as it had many times before. When the silence became uncomfortable my mind began racing. They wouldn't kill us would they? We had given them no reason to hurt us…true I had fought, but such was out of defense. Apart from that we had been very cooperative captives, in my opinion. A few snickers and glares from myself would not be enough to turn the temper of this man.

"We set out from Rivendell with nine companions." Frodo spoke up, and Sam and I turned our heads in surprise. Before either of us knew what to say to stop him, Frodo was speaking of our Fellowship, trying to save our hides. My tongue was trying (unsuccessfully) to form the words "Frodo, please be quiet", and my mind was racing to process what he was saying, checking it all over in my head to make sure the information did not give too much away.

He made mention of Merry and Pippin, Gimli, Legolas, Gandalf and how he had fallen in Moria…he even mentioned Gideon. He said no names, but it still oddly hurt to hear about them, and give them away. They were our friends. Gideon was my brother. How could we speak about them to this man? Frodo was trying to keep us safe, but I felt as though I would have rather stayed silent.

Finally, he spoke of Aragorn and Boromir. "There were two men. One was Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and the other Boromir of Gondor."

I was about to wince at how he had let two more names pass his lips, when I noticed a change come over the man opposite us. Something like surprise, and then sadness, one that went deep. "You were a friend of Boromir?"

"Yes." Frodo nodded. "On my own part."

"He considered you a friend Frodo." I said, remembering how broken Boromir had been when I found him on our last day with the Fellowship. "He considered us all friends."

The man stood. "It would grieve you to learn that he is dead."

Dead. No, I thought. Impossible, no, he was standing so strong when I left him. He had been watching my back as we searched for Frodo and Gideon and the others. He was a brave warrior, a skilled man. Boromir could not be dead. No, no, no. He said he would find us later…he promised, and then told me to run off and find Frodo, and Gideon. He had to be alive. Alive, and perhaps a bit annoyed that we had all gone off where he could not find us.

"Dead? How? When?" Frodo demanded.

"As his friends I would assume you could tell me." The man went on.

"If something happened to Boromir, we would have you tell us." Frodo gave a tight reply.

"His horn washed up on the riverbank, six days past. It was cloven in two."

No, no, no. Please, no.

"You're lying." I replied.

"I am not lying to you."

"You must be lying!" I snapped back, my tone sounding more upset than I would have liked. "Boromir was one of the strongest among us. He was chosen by Lord Elrond to join us. He knew what he was doing, I saw him the last day we were among our friends, he was fine!"

"I am sorry to say that has changed since you left your companions."

I scoffed. "You're not sorry. You only want to see if there's anything we haven't told you."

"Miss Fali." Sam reached out for my shoulder to stop me, but I shrugged his hand away.

"Your remarks, however spirited they are, won't return him."

"You're lying." I repeated. "What do you know of Boromir anyway?"

"Everything." The man hissed at me, in anger. "I knew the force of his spars, and the warmth of his friendship, and I know he is dead. Not just be a broken horn, but because I am Faramir of Gondor…and he was my brother."

It was the fatal blow of that small spar that had been going on between Faramir and I, as my mouth fell agape, and the horrible sinking feeling in my stomach gave way to something even more crushing. I felt like the ground had opened beneath me and I was falling into some deep, dark cavern where there is no light, nor hope.

We were pulled away, to a deeper and dimer part of the cavern where we could more easily be guarded. My footsteps were numb. I kept thinking of Faramir's face, and seeing the similarities. The structure of the face, but a bit softer. The form of their noses, nearly identical. The red of their hair, the same. The more I thought of it, the more I believed he was his brother.

And the more I believed him to be Boromir's brother, the more I believed Boromir was dead.

/

Frodo and Sam had fallen asleep, after we had sat for what seemed like ages, grieving quietly. But I did not unburden myself of my emotions by sleep. I felt that someone must stay awake, if only for the fact that these men may not be trustworthy still, though they had not shown us any more unkindness.

Death. How had he died? I would not know for a long time, not until I met again with Gideon and Aragorn and the others. Gandalf and Boromir. Two of our eleven would never be seen again in this world. Maybe more of them by now, there was no way of telling. I shut out the horrible thought completely, feeling a salty sting at my eyes. How had Boromir died? The thought surfaced again, after I shut out the more awful alternative. Faramir had said that the broken horn had washed up on the Riverbank…had he drowned?

I bit upon my lower lip. Drowning seemed so horrible. Opening your mouth to breathe and only finding water to fill your lungs and suffocate you, no matter how you struggled. How awful, and how frightening.

Sam had nearly drowned trying to get to Frodo when he parted from the Fellowship.

And my dear 'uncle' Oin, old as he way have been, had been drowned by that horrible thing in the water outside Moria.

All three of my uncles were dead.

Death. So much death.

I thought of Gideon, and had to draw in an unsteady breath to calm myself. I thought of him, at home now, sitting with my family. They must have been so broken hearted to return home without the children they left to the Shire with. They must have been so scared when Gideon returned home sooner than expected, without me in sight. Oh, it must have killed Mother. It must have broken Father. I was their youngest, and their only daughter. Gideon would have told them I was fine the last he saw of me, but he still would bring the difficult news that the Fellowship had broken apart.

Glancing around me, at uneven stone walls and the two hobbits trying to rest as we waited for our captors to decide what to do with us, I could only think bitterly "This was the adventure I was looking so forward to…what I was so excited about all my life…" and feeling I had woefully romanticized the hardships. I had neglected to see them as they were meant to be seen: nasty, brutish unfair and…unstoppable.

"Hello Fali."

I blinked and saw him, sitting on a crate just as his younger brother had, but this time he was different. He was no longer dripping wet, and the clothes he had worn for most of the journey were replaced with simpler, white garments. I frowned, for they resembled too closely a death shroud to me.

I knew I was sleeping now, fatigue winning out in the end. Greif tired you.

I dared not look at him, fixing my eyes ahead and refusing to meet his face.

"Fali, you cannot refuse to acknowledge me."

"I can." I replied, firmly. "It's but a dream…and my own, as we've said before."

"I'm sorry your meeting with my brother wasn't as…decorous…as it could have been." He tried again to gain my attention. I was quiet. "What do you want me to do?" He asked. "Apologize for dying?"

I shot him a hard look, that was instantly dropped when I met his calm face, and tears were felt in my eyes again. "How could you?" I asked. "How could you not tell me?"

"It's but a dream, and your own." He answered. "I thought we'd both known I cannot tell you anything you don't already know."

It was true, and it made me feel like such a fool to go on believing he could be unharmed.

"There is no need for tears." He said, comfortingly.

"Of course there is, you are dead!" I snapped back, blinking and letting said tears fall.

"There are always certain risks that one accepts when going on an adventure…but you would know about that already, wouldn't you, Fali?" He smiled a little. "After all, you loved those old stories so much."

It felt like he was one of my brothers, chastising me for expecting the adventure to be as tame as a hunting party. I tried to be anger with him for such treatment, but it only fell away to stupid tears again.

"I suppose we're all unprepared to be stories of old." He sighed, getting up and patting my shoulder. "Dry those tears. You have much to do still. I fear you won't enjoy it as much as you thought you would, but it must be done all the same."

I nodded, wiping away the tears, and mumbling "Alright."

"Keep a close eye on Frodo and Sam."

"I will."

"You can be brave again, can't you?"

"I can." I nodded, holding my head a little higher again. "I will be."

He grinned. "Well done, princess."

"Just Fali." I corrected, automatically.

He laughed, and I wondered if I would ever see him again, in illusions like these, or in some other world yet to come. "Be nice to my brother, will you?" He said.

A single breath of laughter came from my throat, and I smiled with surprising ease. "I'll try." I smirked. "So long as he is nicer to us."

There was suddenly a noise, and I was startled away, the peaceful illusion shattering, and dissolving all to quickly to the room where we were being held. I quickly slumped my head and pretended to be in sleep still. Someone entered, and I heard one of the hobbits waking. "You must come with me, now." Faramir, I recognized the voice. Someone stirred.

Don't be Frodo, please don't be Frodo, I thought.

Someone rose to their feet and followed Faramir out.

I waited until the sound of their steps was gone, and then opened my eyes to see Frodo's resting place completely hobbitless. "Sam." I hissed, lowly. "Samwise!" I hurried to wake him.

He woke up, also quick startled and accidently smacked my chin. "What is it?" He shot up, glancing around quickly. "Where did Mister Frodo go?"

"Faramir returned, and took him."

"Only him? Why not us?"

"I don't know." I whispered. "I don't like it Sam. Something's happening."

"Do you think they know he has the Ring?"

A thousand fears started coming to the surface of my mind.

"Let us try to stay calm." I took a reassuring breath. "With any luck, Gollum will choose to reveal himself and we may be able to help Frodo."

Forced to wait impatiently for rescue or the return of Faramir and Frodo, I paced nervously. "Faramir's making it very hard for me to tolerate him." I muttered to myself.

"What did you say, Miss Fali?" Sam asked, as he waited expectantly for _something_ to happen.

"Nothing, Sam." I gave up trying to correct his name for me. "Just keep listening for anything."

A commotion rose up, quietly at first, but quickly rising in volume. A sound I recognized, and to hear it wrenched my stomach with worry. Gollum, shrieking his head off.

Faramir's men entered, and throw the creature to the ground, delivering all the beating that Sam and I wished at times we had. Gollum had a hood over his face and blindly shrieked on. Frodo entered, looking distraught at our guide's misfortune.

"Frodo." I called to him sharply, and I he stood by me and Sam, and the three of us waited to see what they would do to Gollum as they dragged the creature past us to another private corner of the caverns. At that moment, I thought they would just kill him.

Faramir was the last to enter, and gave us a hard glance as he passed. "What are you doing with him?" I demanded. "He's already been tortured before! Pity him, he's practically an animal already!"

"So you all know him." Faramir replied. "The truth will soon be revealed."

He left, following his men.

"He's not going to make it through." I spoke of Gollum. "The last time he was tortured he told them where the Ring was…we can't be here when he does so again."

I looked around, hoping to see a clear exit…hoping to see our weapons around the corner. But there was no way out.

I saw a glimmer and caught sight of the Ring, shining at me.

Somehow it seemed all too pleased with itself.

Somehow it knew it was gaining the upper hand.

Gollum screamed. His words were mangled by the harshness of his throat, but the message was clear.

My precious.


	34. Chapter 33 (The stories that matter)

"You have to go now." Sam whispered quickly. "Use the Ring. Just this once. Go, Mister Frodo."

"He's right." I said, straightening Frodo's cloak, securing it more on his shoulders. "Stay off the path. Eat the lembas sparingly, our bags must be in here somewhere."

"Fali, Sam I couldn't just leave you two here."

"Do you remember the knots I showed you? For snares?"

"Not well enough." He shook his head.

"Never mind, the lembas should last."

"What about Sam and you?"

"Sam will have me."

"And what about yourself?"

Sam stepped forward. "I'll keep an eye on her, Mister Frodo."

"Thank you, Sam." I glanced down to the Ring briefly. "I hate to make you use that thing…but it may be your only chance of getting out of here. Just be quick, and as soon as you're far away take it off and never wear it again."

"I couldn't." Frodo replied, and I was almost relieved to hear he had no interest in the Ring. But a time like this called for the opposite.

"Don't argue with me now Frodo." I said firmly. "I could get you to do just about anything as a child, and it's not going to change today."

"Wear it, just this once." Sam begged, as our narrow gap of time continued to close.

"I can't. You were right, Sam. I'm sorry. The Ring's taking me, Sam. If I put it on, he'll find me."

With the decision made, and our time to send Frodo away over, Faramir entered with a sword drawn. I pushed the two hobbits behind me, and glared.

Well, so much for being nice to him…I thought to myself, eying the sword in his hand.

"So… this is the answer to all the riddles." Faramir said.

"What are you going on about now?" I countered, boldly.

"The Ring of power, within my grasp." He answered, and I swallowed, holding my glare. "A chance for Faramir, captain of Gondor, to show his quality."

Faramir pushed his sword past the gap in between my side and outstretched arm. The tip of the sword poked past Frodo's shirt, and took hold of the Ring.

Frodo pushed the blade away defiantly, and it struck against my arm. I glanced away from Faramir for a second to see only a thin line of blood. "Damn." I muttered.

"Stop it!" Sam rose to Frodo's defense. "Leave him alone! Don't you see…? He's got to destroy it. That's where we're going. To Mordor, to the mountain of fire."

"Sam." I said, stopping him. My friends were not very good about keeping secrets. We were as conspicuous as a dozen dwarves floating downriver in barrels. Nevertheless, the words had been spoken.

Luckily another man stepped in and this caught Faramir's attention as they began to exchange words. Their tone implied something serious was happening not far from here.

"Please, it's such a burden."

"Sam." I said a bit more forcibly.

But no amount of words, said or withheld, could stop our fate from being sealed. "Prepare to leave." Faramir gave the order. "The Ring will go to Gondor."

/

"At least the Ring is making it's way to Gondor around your neck." I said, as we were marched along the path.

"Ever optimistic." Sam smiled. "The Gods gifted you with that Fali."

"Someone should be…" I sighed. "We don't know what we'll find, wherever they're taking us." I was glad that the men had the good sense to return out weapons to us. Though we were being watched so closely we'd never be able to use them to escape, I felt more secure with my sword in my belt.

"Is your arm alright?" Frodo asked. He glanced apologetically at the cut left by Faramir's sword.

"I am fine, Frodo." I said. I lowered my voice even further. "You should still consider putting on the Ring and slipping away."

"I couldn't Fali…"

"You can, and maybe you should. Right Sam?"

"It would be a smart idea, Mister Frodo." Sam whispered. "No one would blame you for using it, just this once."

"No!" Frodo hissed, and I thought my friend actually sounding menacing for once in his life. "I won't! The two of you hissing in my ears doesn't help matters at all! If anything it sounds just like the Ring to me!"

There was a smart stabbing in my heart, being rebuked at by such a dear friend. "Sorry." I mumbled in reply.

"We meant no harm." Sam sounded wounded as well.

"Wait, I-" But if Frodo meant to quickly apologize for his words, they were cut short by the image of smoke and flame rising over a city.

"Osgiliath burns. Mordor has come." One man said.

"What could have started a fire like that one?" Sam asked.

"Torches…a spark of flint over a thatched roof…dragons." I said, preparing myself for the worst. Given the downward spiral of our luck I had a feeling something brutal was to be expected.

"The Ring will not save Gondor, it has only the power to destroy." Frodo tried to warn Faramir. "Let us go." Faramir and his men proved desperate though, the warning fell on deaf ears. The power to destroy was what they wanted…so long as it was destroying their enemy. They refused to acknowledge the fact that it would be destroying them as well. Already the hearts of these men were being corrupted by being in its presence.

The only one of us who was continuing on as though nothing was burning down was Gollum, who was acting out at having a rope around his neck, much like he did the first time. A few swift kicks from the men had muffled his cries and babblings, but he continued to writhe around and tug pathetically at the rope.

Osgiliath was in shambles when we arrived. I didn't want to enter the city at all. I could smell rooves burning and hear monstrous noises echoing from within. The sound of battle, the sound of chaos.

"Perhaps this is what it felt like to be in Dale on that horrible day." I caught sight of fire, this one just a harmless flame in a pit, more for light to see by under than dim skies than anything else. Nothing so terrible as what was eating away at the city in other places, or even close to the calamity of Smaug.

My family had probably never looked at fire the same way again after what they had been through.

The tension only grew from there. Frodo began to stumble, his legs going weak suddenly, and his balance coming and going unpredictably. Gollum became more frightful. The men were tense. One came running over with a terrible message. Orcs on the eastern shore…too many…overrun by nightfall. Each sentence more ill than the last. I was somewhat thankful for having expected the worst. At least my mind was a little more prepared for it than Sam's or Frodo's. Perhaps this was why Gideon thought the worst of everything. One couldn't change their circumstances, but they could choose to not be surprised by them.

Frodo stumbled heavily again, and Sam tried to steady him. "Mister Frodo."

"It's calling to him Sam…it's eye is almost on us."

"Hold on." Sam pressed, beckoning me over.

"Is it speaking to you?" I tried to get an answer from Frodo.

"Are you sure Mister Frodo? Are you alright? Perhaps you've become ill?"

Frodo's eyes wandered over our heads and up at the sky, drifting over our faces blankly. It was as though he couldn't even hear us.

A part of me was very scared, and easily irritated with the confinement around these men, and everyone talking about what to do with us, and now that they had the Ring in their precious burning city we'd soon be useless to them. Frightened and frustrated I shook Frodo harshly by his shoulders. "Answer us, Frodo!" I snapped.

I could have sworn I heard a snarl and a hiss, coming from within his shirt.

"He sees us." Frodo answered. "It's him."

I was about to stress to my friend how he was being vague, and his eyes remained unfocused on my face as he spoke, when Faramir said that we were to be delivered to his father. "Tell him Faramir sends a mighty gift. A weapon that will change the course of this war."

Boromir, how am I supposed to like him?, I groaned inside, as I imagined my friend telling me to give his little brother one more chance, for he would prove himself yet.

Sam's face boiled with rage, completely out of character for him. "Do you want to know what happened to your brother? Do you want to know why he died?!" The hobbit was so harsh.

Boromir would have hated to hear we threw his death into the face of his younger brother. I guessed he would have struck Sam in the face for such a thing, whether or not he was usually friendly to those he met. But I was silent, still trying to get Frodo to stand steady on his feet.

"He tried to take the Ring from Frodo, after swearing to protect him." Sam continued. "He tried to kill him! The Ring drove your brother mad!"

 _I was not myself…I am lost…._

I closed my eyes hard and tried to push back the memories of those last moments in which I saw him. How vulnerable he had been and then how strong…and I would not see him ever again.

Moments like that should not have belonged to me. They should have been spent with Faramir, who had known him better than any of us.

The feeling pulled at my gut, coiling deep inside. That was it. We had to get out of here. We couldn't spend one more moment with Faramir and his men and let them take the Ring.

"We're getting out of here." I whispered lowly to Frodo. "Now."

"Look out!" It sounded like an echo above the noise.

There was a collective glance toward a tower, which was struck and began to come crashing down. "Now!" I yelled above the crash. With everyone too startled to hold me back I ran.

"Miss Fali, watch out!" I heard Sam call after me.

Please, let him be running too, I thought. And dragging Frodo right behind him.

There was a piercing scream in the air, and I froze suddenly. I recalled the swamp with the dead faces, and hiding under a bush, and black winged serpents in the air. The Nazgul had returned. I ducked into an archway, and watched as the other men scattered, leaving me alone.

Unless one counted Gollum, who was shrieking and cowering, still in my sight.

A hand touched my shoulder and I jolted. I looked up at Faramir, with his sword drawn again. "Where are the hobbits?" I asked. "What happened to them?"

"Your friends are hiding." He whispered back. "Come, we must hide under better cover."

I hesitated. Faramir noticed. "I will not have Osgiliath destroyed because you stood under an archway, and caused the collapse of an entire wall." He tried to grab my wrist, but I moved away from him, inching a bit closer to the open courtyard beyond.

I don't trust him, I debated internally. He hasn't been any help at all, and if not for him we wouldn't even be in this mess right now. He's more of an enemy to us than a hero.

But he is Boromir's brother, and Boromir I would trust. Boromir would want me to trust him. This may be the moment he proves himself more of a friend than a foe.

But Boromir was corrupted by the Ring, and Faramir is making that same mistake.

But Boromir felt guilty.

Boromir was good at heart again when we were in danger.

Now we are in danger again…and we have his younger brother to help us this time.

I stopped thinking it over and I made to follow him. He said nothing and led me quickly along the walls, until we could dash into the security of the outer structures. For a few minutes we were stuck there, watching black outlines stream above the clouds.

"I can't believe they found us again." I closed my eyes as one drifted by rather close.

"You have come across them before?" Faramir asked.

"Yes, but not as close as this." I shook my head.

"Was Boromir with you?" He sounded hopeful for answers. I was too, but I would not know for some time just how Boromir had died.

"No, it was long after we parted from the rest." I drew my sword, quietly.

"You spoke quite passionately of him." Faramir pressed me. "Do you know something?"

"I don't know how he died, the last time I saw him he was still alive."

"Do you know anything of what happened to him?"

 _I was not myself…I am lost…_

"He was very brave." I answered. "And he told me to be brave. When I found him…he was out of sorts." Faramir frowned a little. "It was right after he tried to take the Ring from Frodo. He was not himself. He was…lost, and guilty, and sad." I found myself frowning as well and shook my head a little. "Then we heard a cry from camp. Orcs had followed us, and were attacking. He stood again, and it was as if nothing had happened to him, and we ran off to find Frodo and the others, to protect them." I smiled, lightly. "I fought by him that day…you would have been proud."

"I sometimes have visions in which I see him pass by, lying in a boat, full of water. He floats down river, and moves past me and into the mist." Faramir confessed. "I knew he was dead when I saw him like that."

"I had dreams in which he spoke to me…" I added. "Of course, I didn't know he had died…maybe I should have known, or at least had my doubts. But his words still guided me, nonetheless."

There was a scream from a Nazgul and we fell silent again. "Your friend…Frodo." Faramir nodded up at the top of one of the walls. On it Frodo stood, moving in a daze, his hand outstretched, holding the Ring.

"Frodo!" I screamed, but he did not hear me.

A Nazgul drifted closer, getting closer and closer to his outstretched hand and the weapon inside it. "What is he doing?!" I snapped.

Sam bolted into view, slamming himself against Frodo and knocking them both down a set of stairs. An arrow flew past me and struck the Nazgul in the chest. I looked behind me to see Faramir holding the bow responsible for the arrow.

Without saying anything to Faramir I ran off, through the open courtyard, trying to find a passage to the other side of the wall where they had fallen. He didn't hold me back.

"Sam!" I called. "Frodo! Are you here?"

Something grabbed hold of my ankle and I shrieked. I looked down to see Gollum, holding my ankle, and staring up at me, feeble light making his face seem very skull-like. "Followed us…they followed us…" He spoke of the Nazgul.

"Let go of me Gollum!" I hissed. "I have to find Frodo and Sam!"

"Master and fat hobbit?"

"Yes, them." If I hadn't been so scared I might have wondered what Gollum called me. "Keep hiding."

I wretched my foot free from his hold, and ducked under an archway, and into another open space.

It was like entering another world. Sam was pinned down by Frodo, who had his sword, Sting, drawn on him, as he once had Gollum. For a moment I believed I was seeing things. But it was real, and it frightened me more than the Nazgul did. "Frodo!" The hobbit was already sitting back, releasing his friend, but I grabbed hold of his shoulders and pulled him even farther away. Mercilessly, I took hold of his wrist and wretched it back, forcing him to drop Sting.

"How could you?" I asked. "It's Sam…Samwise!" I tried to keep my voice down, but my panic was still present. "How could you, Frodo?"

"I can't do this." Frodo sounded exhausted, in mind and in body.

Gollum came up and grabbed hold of my ankle again. I kicked him away. "What did I say about hiding?" I asked him.

"They are leaving." He motioned to the sky, and sure enough the Nazgul were flying away.

"By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are." Sam sighed. "I know, Mister Frodo." He glanced up at the retreating Nazgul. "It's like in the great stories, Mister Frodo. The ones that really mattered."

Suddenly, from somewhere in my memory I could hear my mother's voice. _Once upon a time, Thorin Oakenshield and his company were walking along a twisting, turning, confusing path through Mirkwood…_

"Full of darkness and danger they were, and sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened?"

 _Once upon a time, your father and I stood in a boat and watched as Smaug crushed all of Laketown as he fell…he was dead, killed by Bard's black arrow…but that wasn't the end of our troubles…_

"But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. A new day will come. When the sun shines it will shine out all the clearer."

 _…_ _and now it is done, and we live happily here in our cozy mountain. Erebor, the home of our people."_

 _A smile, sleepy and warm. "Good night, Amad."_

 _"_ _Good night, Fali."_

"Those were the stories that stayed with you. They meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mister Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn't, because they were holding on to something."

"What are we holdingonto Sam?" Frodo asked, quietly.

Sam turned around again, and helped Frodo to his feet. "That there's some good left in this world, and it's worth fighting for." Sam reached out a hand for me. "Miss Fali!" He sounded so surprised. "You're crying!"

"It's nothing, Sam." I brushed away the two meddlesome tears, only finding that there were two more in my eyes waiting to replace them.

"Was it something I said?" He asked.

"Was it me?" Frodo picked up Sting with a guilty expression.

"No." I shook my head. "I was only remembering something…" I smiled. "You're right Sam."

"About what?"

"Everything." I smirked, and pulled myself up.

Faramir returned and knelt before Frodo. "I think at last we understand one another Master Baggins." His expression had softened a degree, and it gave me hope.

"You know the laws of our country, of your father. If you let them go, your life is forfeit." One man warned.

"Then it is forfeit." Faramir replied. "Release them."

I grinned. "Thank you."

"Return the rest of their supplies." Faramir said, and the order was carried out. One moment we were captured and the next were were on our way, free.

Faramir sought me out, briefly. "Look after them." He nodded in the direction Frodo and Sam.

"I will." I nodded. "That's what your brother also asked of me."

"With any luck you'll not fail us then." He nodded. He offered a hand. I accepted it, and we parted then, no longer enemies.

You'd be pleased Boromir, I thought. We managed to be nice to each other in the end.

 **And they parted as unlikely friends :)**


	35. Chapter 34 (The prelude to battle)

The sound of my childhood was all around me. Laughter, and voices mixed in a hundred conversations, the distant churn of the furnaces, and the spirited collisions of wooden swords. Frerin bidding us farewell to go work in in the lower halls of the mountain. Fein and Fali at the each other, heads full of grand visions of victory, glory.

I had a book in my hands, and sat in the sand, watching them whilst I turned the pages.

The book in question, one of the old dwarven kings, and what each of them had done in their time, was plucked from my hands. I looked up into Vesper's face.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. "You aren't supposed to be in Erebor for another week."

"Our plans changed." She smirked. She clambered over the side of the arena, and sat down beside me.

"Should we call them over?" I nodded at Fien and Fali.

"Leave them." She shrugged. "They'll realise I'm here soon enough." She examined the cover of the book, trying to make sense of the runes. "What happens in this one?"

"It's about our kings, who they were, what they did."

"History lessons." Vesper sighed. "I detest them, personally."

I frowned. History was one of my better subjects. It was stories, and I had been raised on stories. I was not be the stuff of legend, but I could remember legends. That was my part, passing them on, continuing the cycle.

"I don't find them very bad." I shrugged.

Vesper knew me too well however, knew how I was better with books than I was with swords. "Do you ever think you'll do anything grand, like these kings she asked?"

I squirmed in my place. Everything they did was so heroic…I was just a child.

"Not something like fighting off dragons, of course." Vesper added. "Just something that would leave a mark behind you."

"I could write a book." I said, optimistically.

She laughed, merry and friendly. This captured the attention of my brother and sister. "Vesper!" And soon two bodies were thrown upon us and there was a good deal of grappling and greeting and ruffling of hair. The poor book I had been reading was compressed between us all, creasing some of the pages. I hated it when accidents like that happened. In my mind, I set out part of my evening to press the pages back to their original perfection under a stack of my father's journals, much like how Fali pressed flowers.

"You're going to spar right?" Fali asked. "Right, Vesper? We promised each other we would."

"Yes." Vesper nodded. "Sparing, hunting, forging, eating, racing, and long evenings laughing."

There was a happy cheer. Vesper was smiling, in her circle of friends again.

"Maybe you'll be able to tell me some of the tales from your book." Vesper freed the novel from the scramble of bodies, and passed it back to me.

"I will." I nodded.

"And then we'll go hunting." She smiled. "So you can have a real adventure."

/

The dream dissipated into the laughter of children, a memory of happy, carefree days.

If only my friend could see me now…finally having an adventure. Would she be worried for me? Vesper had always watched over all of us faithfully as a sibling. She'd be concerned, and surprised, and even glad for me in, in a certain way. As I woke up, I could almost hear her sighing 'Finally, it's about time you closed your book and started living those legends.'

"Rise and shine, young prince."

An axe was laid across my chest, heavy and solid. I gulped in a breath, a bit more strained than normal, and looked up at Gimli.

"What is this for?" I asked.

"No more archery." He said. "Not for a dwarf." He pointed to the axe on my chest. "I will be outside. You will join me, and you're going to bring that with you."

He left.

"This is my reward for making friends with an elf…" I mused, shouldering the axe and following.

Gimli made a very…honest…instructor.

"I've seen lasses with better strikes than that." He told me, after another less-than-perfect maneuver of the heavy weapon.

"Now, there's no need to bring Fali into this." I replied, in an almost laughing tone. "My sister practically called the training grounds her home away from home."

"Let's try again, shall we?" Gimli asked, shrugging off my comment. "Warrior stance." He gave the order.

Gods, but I hated that stance. A good fighter would hold the axe in front of him, the head facing down, and across his chest, knees slightly bent, ready to push and shove and swing into any brawl.

Most dwarves were sturdy folk though, were as I was a more lithe example, given my mother's background. How Fali had worked around her own size was beyond me. The axe's weight felt like the base of a mountain, and my arms strained against gravity.

Now was time for one of Gimli's drawn out historical anecdotes however, and I found myself bearing the position for longer than I could.

"You must be strong, and stand tall…tall, young prince, _tall_!…" Gimli stressed and I was forced to stand straighter. "…like a mountain." Gimli finished the analogy. "Feel the weight of the weapon."

Oh, I certainly am, I thought.

"Imagine what something like that could do to an orc." Gimli went on. "Yes, the axe has force. A force as old and strong as the generations who have wielded it." Gimli grinned broadly. "You should have heard the stories my father told me when I was a wee lad. Enemies were decapitated in a single stroke. Cave trolls were split in two."

"How very lovely." I wheezed a little.

"Remember to breath lad, that airy voice doesn't become a young man." He continued on, yet again. "Which reminds me, your delivery could use a bit more spirit. Our battlefields used to echo with war cries. Perhaps you could try to have a little more conviction in your voice."

I made it through one line about Gloin wielding an axe on the way to Erebor before falling forward, letting out a strangled sound that was more of anguish than any sort of battle cry. I droppedthe axe to the ground and letting my arms hang below me, throbbing from such treatment.

"Not exactly what we were going for." Gimli eyed the fallen axe, then my form. "You're a bit of a smaller man…" He seemed to _finally_ take note of it. "Perhaps a lighter axe? There's one in the armoury."

"There was a lighter one all along?!" I snapped at my instructor.

"He's back!" Our mutual attention turned to Eowyn as her face appeared, looking from the upper floor of the fortress. "He's returned, it's a miracle!"

"Who?" We asked, both a little confused by her sudden joy.

"Lord Aragorn!"

"What?" I demanded back. It couldn't be…he had fallen from the edge of a cliff…he couldn't be here.

"This is no time for tall tales." Gimli said, gruffly.

"It is not a lie, he's just come through the gates on a horse." Eowyn beamed. "I am not lying, he's here. He's here!"

"By the Valar." Gimli gasped. He then turned on his heel and ran at such an impressive speed I was reminded of his comment that dwarves were 'natural sprinters'.

"Wait for me!" I called, trying to carry the axe along too. Gimli had neglected to pick up the weapon in his haste. The end of the axe was dragged through the dirt behind me, its heaviness forgotten. I pushed my way past curious people all moving along or crowding together to look at something. Or rather, someone.

"Where is he? Where is he?!" I could hear Gimli demand. "Get out of the way! I'll kill him!"

"If you could please excuse me…" I tried to get the crowds to part.

"You are the luckiest, the cunningest, the most reckless man I've ever known!"

I paused where I stood. Gimli could only be speaking to Aragorn. He was back. He was alive. Hope alit in my chest. "Excuse me…!" I tried more desperately to part the people around me.

"You look terrible." I heard the words of Legolas. Yes, those words could also be directed at only our friend. If Legolas had spoken like that to anyone else it would have been taken out of turn, and not as a joke.

I broke free of the people then, dropping the axe at the bottom of the steps, carelessly. Aragorn stood with the elf, facing away from me. He was in terrible shape, as Legolas had said. Disheveled, beaten by quite a few elements, and with his coat covered in dirt, he made an alarming sight compared to when I had last seen him.

He was alive, and there was nothing more great than having the proof of it.

He turned, accepting something that glistened from Legolas. I recognized it as Arwen's necklace. I stood behind him and waited for his eyes to fall on me. I was even more alarmed by the front of him, seeing dried blood on a corner of his clothes, and the fatigue in his eyes. He had traveled long and impossibly hard to reach us.

Even more impossible, he smiled warmly once he saw me standing there. "Master Gideon."

"Aragorn." I grinned back.

He caught sight of the axe. "No doubt Gimli stepped in as an instructor for you, during my absence."

I nodded, quickly embracing him. Yes, he was here, and alive.

"Mahal…" I said, looking at him again. "What happened to you? Legolas isn't lying, you look like a mess."

"Hopefully Theoden will overlook my appearance. I must speak with him, as soon as possible."

"Now?" I asked. "Don't you want to rest first?"

"Later." Aragorn replied shortly, his hand on my shoulder. "I have important news for the king."

He was very serious, and as soon as Legolas began to show him the way to Theoden's workrooms, he followed, silent and stony-faced. I followed, wondering what sort of news he had. With each step it was becoming more and more apparent that I would not like to hear it. Aragorn was too silent.

He walked into the hall where Theoden was discussing the matters of where people were to sleep and rations, trying to organize his entire city and quite a few outlying villages into a smaller space. When Aragorn pushed through the doors, tired and disheveled as he was, Theoden must have thought he resembled a ghost.

"Aragorn?" He asked in surprise. "We had taken you for dead."

"Thankfully that is not true." Aragorn replied. "But I bring very ill news."

"Speak." Theoden bade him.

"Our enemy sends a great host, marching it's way to the very door of Helm's Deep." A silence followed his words. An army? Coming here? But this was a fortified place, a notorious stronghold…surely we had no cause for true alarm. Right?

"A great host you say?" Theoden asked, in the kind of voice that requests more information.

"All of Isengard is emptied." Aragorn nodded.

A whole city…

My mind began to work out what size of an army that could entail.

"How many?" Theoden asked, thinking the same.

"Ten thousand strong…at least."

My brain ceased to perform any sort of mathematics.

"Ten thousand?" Theoden asked, clearly surprised.

"It is an army bred for a single purpose: to destroy the world of Men."

"Mahal…" I managed a word.

"They will be here by nightfall." Aragorn finished. I was beyond words at that point.

"Let them come." Theoden said, with conviction. I could not believe the words we had heard. "I want every man strong lad able to bear arms to be ready by nightfall for battle."

A familiar feeling that had been missing from my life the past few days resurfaced. I realised that order included me. It must, the army approaching was too large in size for it not to include me. I was going to have to fight…and I felt afraid.

/

The more fearful I became the more I wanted not to be afraid, or at least look like it. What would Aragorn think? That I had resumed my old habits after he had vanished? What would the people here think? That their chances of survival rested on the shoulders of a coward? No, I would not have that.

With great focus, I set a serious look on my face, and kept my mouth closed for the following hours, never saying a word, not daring to utter a single concern.

Gimli said the orcs coming were Uruk-hai, with thick armor and wide shields. I said nothing.

Theoden went on, trying to prepare for battle. I said nothing. He spoke well of Helm's Deep, it's past and it's attributes, but it did not calm me.

Aragorn said they try to murder us all, down to the last child. I said nothing. Theoden refused to send out horses and riders for aid. I said nothing. One would think I was a mute.

Legolas was the only one who seemed to see through my actions. No doubt the rate of my breathing was the only thing changed, giving me away. He had the good sense not to say anything, though twice he looked over me, as if asking if I was alright. A curt nod was all it took for him to look the other way again.

By the third hour of the afternoon things were moving at an even faster pace. The doorway to the caves below was opened and women and young children were making their way inside. I caught glimpses of ghost-people and the weary, possession laden travelers again.

"We'll place the reseves along the wall…it will support the archers above, on the causeway." Aragorn said. Somehow he had remained standing through the whole afternoon.

"Aragorn, you must rest." Legolas was firm. "You're no use to us half-alive."

If I was acting like I was mute, than Aragorn was acting as though he was deaf. He paid no attention to the elf.

"Aragorn." Eowyn called to him, and approached with a disappointed look on her face. "I'm to be sent with the women to the caves."

"That is an honorable charge." Aragorn told her. She was a lady after all, and one who could rule in Theoden's place, should the worst occur.

"To mind the children, and to find food and bedding for the men who return." She finished with a frown. "What honor is there in that?"

"A time may come for valor without renown." Aragorn said. "Go to the caves."

"I want to fight with you!" So much like Fali…if she had been shorter I would have sworn it was my sister.

"That is not in my power to command." Aragorn apologized. "Eowyn, your people will need you."

"You do not command the others to stay!" She snapped back. "They fight beside you because they would not be parted from you. Because they love you." Silence followed her outburst. Eowyn realised she had outspoken, and muttered "Sorry."

The others nodded, and left. I stayed behind, looking at her. Maybe it was because she was so like Fali to my eyes that it managed to break my held silence. "You should go to the caves." I told her.

"Not you as well." She huffed at me.

"I meant it Eowyn, as a friend, I think you'd be better there."

"Why?"

"You're like my sister."

"I thought she liked fighting."

"She does." I nodded. "No one could deny that…but she would also be torn if someone told her she could go to the caves or fight beside the men and demanded a choice from her."

"Why would she be unable to choose?"

"Fali's desire to fight is only rivaled by her desire to protect the defenseless. Part of her would think she was better spent in the battle, and part of her would want to watch over every child in Helm's Deep like a pack of ducklings, and comfort them as they heard the battle overhead." I smiled at the thought. "No doubt she would entertain them with stories…but she would also want to be part of this legend about to take place, I'm sure."

"What do think she would choose?" Eowyn asked.

I could tell she would base her answer from my words. Unfortunatly, I knew Fali would have ultimately decided to fight. The approaching army was too large in size, and she would consider it defending all those in the caves below. She would have gladly done either, but she would have chosen to fight, leaving the comforting in the capable hands of mothers. But Eowyn needed to be in those caves.

I did not lie as I replied "She would have done what was best for the people."

Eowyn hung her head, and I knew she had taken my words and made her choice. She would be going to the caves.

I patted her arm in a friendly manner. "I can certainly tell you, as one of the returning men, that I would definitely appreciate the food and bedding you find."

"I hope you do return…all of you." She nodded.

"You and I both." I nodded.

Eowyn embraced me, and I returned the gesture. "Fight well, Gideon."

"I will." Hopefully the words would not be an empty promise.

She headed off dutifully to the caves. I watched her leave, wondering what her statement about love had truly meant. She had often looked upon Aragorn with admiration, but she had also known of Arwen's necklace, and his loyalty to her. And yet, the heart was never easily understood.

I looked for the others again finding them where men, old and young, were being suited for battle. I then became very aware of how few men we had that were a decent age for fighting, eyeing the elders and the boys. Fali would have sent the children back in a heartbeat. If they were made to fight it would only strengthen her resolve to join in the battle, defending them as well as the walls of Helm's Deep.

"Farmers, farriers, stable boys…" Aragorn spoke softly. "These are not soldiers."

I said nothing, reverting to the same serious look as before, lest my fear be known. I merely nodded.

"Most have seen too many winters." Gimli said.

"Or too few." Legolas replied. "Look at them, they're frightened. I can see it in their eyes."

The room fell silent and Aragorn, Gimli and I faced the elf. Could he still see cowardice in my eyes too?

Aragorn and Legolas spoke in elvish, and I discerned only certain words.

A better chance here, than in Endoras…

They wouldn't win this fight…death…

"Than I shall die as one of them!" Aragorn replied, loudly. This was followed by a hard stare shared between them, and then Aragorn turned and left. Legolas tried to go after him but was held back by Gimli.

"Let him go, lad. Let him be." He said. We did not want them arguing again.

Legolas wore a frustrated expression, and turned and left us as well.

I sighed, internally.

This was not a good prelude to the battle.


	36. Chapter 35 (The Battle of Helm's Deep)

Gimli and I divided our attentions between Aragorn and Legolas. If any two people would choose now to have a disagreement, I had not expected them to be our ranger and elf. Maybe Gimli and Legolas…but that would have been just another bout of bickering. Whatever words had passed between Aragorn and Legolas had cut deeper than anticipated.

I found the elf prince standing on one of the causeways, eyes fixed on the distance where our enemy would soon emerge from. I announced my presence a moment after I arrived, with a soft clearing of the throat, though I doubted the elf had missed hearing my approach. He glanced at me. "I suppose I should thank you for not bringing up my name among those with fear in their eyes."

"That's the first time I've heard you speak since Aragorn returned." He noted. "You've been keeping awfully quiet these last few hours."

"Hopeless words spread fear like wildfire." I faced the horizon beyond us, imaging what it would look like blocked by orcs. "I decided it was better to keep silent, lest the only thing I'm capable of saying is discouraging." I shook my head a little. "Fali was the one for voicing optimism, even when times were at their worst. My approach has always been to prepare for the worst and hope for the best…it's been more difficult to do the latter this time."

"Wise words." Legolas replied, and then was quiet. Perhaps he regretted his words? They had been in elvish, and were not likely understood…his tone then? That had been negative enough.

"Don't worry, you spoke in elvish." I found myself saying.

"How much have you trained for battle?" Legolas asked.

"Trained? Well, I spent many a day on the training grounds with my siblings…can't say I fought with them every single day, but the sword wasn't foreign."

"Not much then." The elf said.

"No, not very much." I shook my head. "I never expected a battle to be in my future." I paused, and then asked "Do you think everything you and the others taught me will be helpful?"

"Helpful? Yes."

"Will it be enough?"

The elf did not reply in words, merely looking me over with an expression of 'I do not wish to say…I don't know'.

"I imagined the answer would be something like that." I answered. "But with our numbers someone who knows a little with the sword is better than having one less in the army."

"Do you want to fight?"

"Do you?" I asked. Silence followed for a moment. "Let's be honest, no one here does…save Theoden, but he has an obligation to his homeland and people. He's only doing what he thinks is best. Helm's Deep was supposed to be our answer…now it's more of a trap than a sanctuary."

"You could leave."

"What?" I nearly gasped. "Leave? Now?!"

"You're afraid, you're unprepared." Legolas stated. "The odds are not with you. We promised your mother we'd watch over you, keep you alive and safe."

"So you're telling me to leave?"

"If you wish too."

I thought about the matter for a few seconds. "No." I replied. "I can't leave. You and Gimli and Aragorn are still here. People need me. It would be disgraceful to leave at this time."

"So you're not afraid?"

"Oh no, I'm still afraid." I nodded, almost finding I had the urge to laugh. "It's just a question of what's right and what is wrong…we need to fight, therefore I shall fight among you."

"Wise words." The elf spoke.

"Do you see them coming over the horizon?" I asked.

"We best go and find Aragorn and Gimli." Legolas replied. That was not the answer I had hoped for.

/

"Did you talk some sense into him?" Gimli asked, nodding in the direction of Legolas when we returned.

"No, he'd already made his mind up that he was in the wrong."

"Why'd he run off?"

"To keep watch of the horizon."

"The enemy approaches?"

"Closer every second."

"I was wrong to despair." I heard Legolas apologize to Aragorn, and I resumed silence again. If I was close enough to hear Legolas, the elf was doubly close enough to hear me. Perhaps the words had been even directed at me in part, a reminder that 'hopeless words spread fear like wildfire'.

"Have you gotten your mouth sewn shut?" Gimli asked me. "Sometimes I forget your standing here."

"Anyone with eyes can see that doesn't fit you." I brought up the chainmail Gimli was trying to fit on his person. "I'd stop trying, it would only prove to be a hindrance in the end."

"It's no mithril, but's better than none." The dwarf grumbled. "And it will fit. If I had time before the battle, I'd get it adjusted properly."

The chainmail finally managed to slip past Gimli's stomach and fell to the floor. It seemed to be a mile too long for our friend.

"It's a little tight around the chest." The dwarf admitted, and we smirked at our companion.

"You may want to consider a child's chainmail." I suggested.

"A child's!" Gimli crossed his arms, offended. "Me, a grown dwarf…go into battle in training armor?!"

"I didn't mean anything like that." I hurried to say. "I only think it would be hard to fight wave after wave of orcs while tripping over the trailing edge of your armor."

An odd horn blew outside our quarters and I froze. My eyes widened in surprise and I turned to Aragorn, with the expression of 'Is that them? Have they finally come? What should we do? Fight? Hide?'. The ranger looked equally confused by the sudden calling of the horn, but was not afraid.

"That is no orc horn." Legolas said, and raced out the door, pursued by the rest of us. We heard marching but softer than that what I imagined the footfalls of orcs to sound like. When I found my way to the front of the fortress I was able to see the gate had been opened, and row upon row of elves was parading inside Helm's Deep. It was a moment of awe. They did look spectacular, in fine armor, with bows and quivers well stocked with arrows.

An army, a true army of soldiers not just assembled and armed farmers and shopkeepers. The sort of army that would give us a chance of winning the battle that was due in a few short hours.

"Mahal." I breathed. "Look at all of them."

"They've come to aid us." Gimli was equally surprised by our unexpected, but completely welcome help.

"Do you suppose Gandalf brought them here?" The thought came to my mind. "Do you see him with them?" My eyes searched for grey robes. They landed upon a familiar figure, not in grey, but also in armor. "Say, isn't that…?"

"Haldir." Aragorn finished my sentence, spotting the elf from Lothlorien himself.

Aragorn raced further down the causeway, with us trailing not too far behind. Haldir's face was rather stoic, but he said "I bring word from Lord Elrond of Rivendell: Long ago there was an alliance of elves and men. We fought and died together."

He was referring to a war long passed and forgotten to most but the elves. But in his words I saw my family, my aunt Tauriel, Bard, the father of three now-elderly people whom my mother still affectionately called friends. That lord was now dead, but always well thought of.

"We come here to honor that alliance." Haldir finished, glancing up at us and we came into his view.

Aragorn approached Haldir, welcoming him and embracing him like a friend, which surprised the elf out of his serious state, but he returned the gesture.

The elves turned and lower their shields and bows in perfect unison. It made me think that they were almost one solider in a way, just in many bodies.

I smiled, feeling hope slowly grow between the knots of tension.

/

It was incredibly hard to stand there, arm pressed against arm with the other men, and the elves, as it got darker and darker by degrees. With every bit of light that faded the sound of something akin to a rumbling thunderstorm grew louder and louder. The army of Isengard, getting closer and closer.

"We could have at least picked a better spot." Gimli complained beside me. I looked beside me at the dwarf, who's view was blocked by one of the higher portions of the causeway. I was standing in one of the shallow-walled sections myself, and could see in front of me, but given how we were almost the same height it would not have helped to change where we stood. I would only feel more uneasy staring at stone, better I see the army coming.

Aragorn appeared behind us. Gimli smiled at him and said "Well lad, whatever luck you live by, let's hope it lasts the night."

"Your friends are with you Aragorn." Legolas nodded, as a real thunderstorm rumbled overhead.

"Let's hope they last the night." Gimli sighed, taking to standing on the edge of his toes to see better over the wall.

"Master Gideon?" Aragorn asked.

I glanced back at him, managing a small smile. "You've taught me well." I replied. "Let's hope the lessons stay with me all through the night."

Aragorn glanced in my direction one more time as he parted to another section of the causeway, and I straightened, throwing back my shoulders.

"Your mother did much the same thing when she was preparing to fight." Legolas said. He and the rest of the elves could probably sense a tension so thick about Helm's Deep it threatened to choke us.

My mother…was this how she felt when she was faced with battle? Fali had her fighting spirit, but I had always thought myself to be quite like her too. How she had wanted to stop any conflict between the dwarves and elves and men that one fateful day…she was a person of peace first, and a fighter second. I was like that, one to seek peace before glory in battle.

But Men and elves and dwarves were people you could negotiate with…orcs only took your answer from a sword or an arrow.

A thin dark cloud formed on the horizon, and my eyes fixed on it, and then a dark mass, like a moving inky carpet, spilled over the hills and filled the plain before Helm's Deep. I thought the army would end, but more and more of them kept coming, those in front getting nearer, until you could make out their features, their crude armor.

So many, I thought. As though every orc in my parents' tales has come to me, all at once. How will I live through this? There are so many…I ceased thinking, some part of my mind, strangely calm, was casting a curtain over those thoughts, and setting my focus to what was happening just now, and not what could happen.

The heavens split themselves open and sheets of rain descended down. Well, we could have done without this…I thought. Let's hope it will somehow serve as an advantage to us.

Aragorn shouted above the noise, words in elvish that I tried to make out, something about mercy…

"Show no mercy, for you shall receive none." Legolas translated for Gimli and I.

The sound of the army stopped without warning, and there was only the sound of rain splattering against stone. "What's happening?" Gimli demanded, now jumping up and down, trying to see over the wall, almost like a child would.

"Shall I describe it to you?" Legolas asked. "Or shall I find you a box?" There was a smirk on his face, and the dwarf laughed in turn. Part of me relaxed, hearing the two of them joke even under these circumstances.

Near silence was replaced with shouting and spear rattling, and we readied our weapons. The otter engraved in my sword gleamed at me. Good fortune, we would all need it this night.

A single arrow shot out of nowhere and struck an orc in the neck. We all stopped, taken a bit aback at the lone shot. Glancing around, I spotted an embarrassed older man with shaky hands and an empty bow. The orc who had been struck fell forward, dead.

Well…it's one less, I thought to myself.

The orcs were quite angered by this, clearly they had not expected for the first to fall would be one of their own. They charged.

The order was quickly given to fire and a volley of arrows flew, enemies falling into the mud. I felt panic racing in me, telling me I should not be standing still, telling me I should be doing something. "Did anybody hit anything?" Gimli demanded details.

"No." I was sarcastic. "Not a single arrow found it's mark." I was shaky.

"How many?" He wanted specifics.

"I'm afraid it's a bit difficult to count." I returned. "More of them are dead than us."

There was an order for a second volley, and then as they drew too close to fire at will. "What happening now? What's happening now?"

"They've gotten too close, we're firing at will." I described the scene below. Maybe we should have hunted down a box for the dwarf…

A structure was raised from the crowds below, followed closely by another of its kind and many more. "Send them to me!" Gimli was anxious to begin fighting.

The structures became discernable as a ladder. "You're wish may soon be granted." I answered Gimli, gripping my sword more tightly.

"What?"

"They're raising ladders."

"Good!" The dwarf was almost smiling with glee.

" _Good_?!" I echoed Gimli. "You need to work on your definition of the word."

This was it, soon they would be here, soon they would be among us, and heavy fighting would ensure. Soon…the sound of orcs scrambling up the rickety old wood rattled my nerves and my head forced my heart to not give in.

An ugly face sprang up. The knife in it's hand did not gleam in light of the torches, simple and unpolished, but deadly. My reflexes consumed me, and I swung, hitting solid armor. It had little result. I tried again, as the creature leapt over my head . This time I heard a yell. There was blood on my sword, dark blood. I had cut him under the arm likely. Someone with a dagger behind me finished the foul being and threw the body over the opposite side of the causeway.

Another came up the ladder, then another, like spiders out of a hole. My height proved to be an advantage for me, for they simply jumped over me, too busy to notice. I hurried to inflict any injury I could, for the sake of those behind me.

Gimli looked to be having the time of his life. His axe arched high and struck true, and orcs were flung back over the wall. He had a broad smile on his face, and briefly I wondered if my friend was truly sane. How could anyone be enjoying this so much?

"Legolas, I've two already!" The dwarf boasted.

I'm on seventeen." The elf responded, amusement in his tone.

"What?!" A frown replaced the grin. "I'll not have a pointy-ear outscoring me!"

"You two are having a _contest_?!" I shouted at them. "Now of all times?"

"Nineteen." Legolas corrected his score.

I could not believe it. They really _were_ having a contest between them to see who could kill more of the enemy.

"Is a game like that-" I paused my conversation with a short yell of surprise as one orc noticed me and swung low. Ducking down, I shoved at his ankle, foolishly close to me. He wavered, and fell back. "-really necessary?" I finished.

"Where's your spirit, lad?" Gimli asked. "That's five now, I'll have you know!"

"Twenty-two."

"Damn those arrows of his."

"When did you two decide on something like this?" I asked.

"Shortly before you were placed among us. If you'd been but a minute earlier you could have joined." He swung his axe and added another to his score. "Though I suppose you could join if you liked, all the same. What do you say, Gideon?"

We were interrupted by another large number of orcs coming over the ladders all at once. A swung and caught one by the throat, his body catching another on his fall into the mud. By now there were orcs among those defending Helm's Deep, and more still coming over the wall.

"I think you two are acting like boys who arrived for their first-" I turned to find I had lost Gimli among the scramble. Everyone had lost their places and given up the orderly lines we had maintained before, trying to make enough room to swing swords and fire arrows amid the number of people and orcs. "-lesson." I completed the thought.

A growl behind me made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I spun around, the motion saving me from being sliced open by an orc's sword. I raised my blade in defense, trying to step backward to find a little more room, finding none in the compressed quarters. The orc struck back and I knocked into someone. Whoever it was moved away, a friend, not an enemy. I used the little time and space around me that I had to strike back. Twice his blade caught mine, but the third I managed to catch the area under his arm, like I had the first one. This weakened him enough for me to strike again. I aimed for his throat and found the mark, jumping back quickly as his blade swung in a dying attempt to kill me. The orc fell, inconveniently in the center of the causeway. Already people were almost tripping over its ankles or stepping on the body in the lack of available room. I ducked low and pulled the body to the side.

Arrows flew overhead, some were ours, some theirs. I saw soldiers fall from the wall, both orc and man and elf. It was terrifying, cramped, and constant, and yet adrenaline kept me from feeling any sort of crippling fear.

"Eleven!" I heard Gimli from somewhere.

"Twenty-four!" Legolas sounded just as far away.

"Slowing down, are we?!" The dwarf was taunting his friend.

I regained my breath and shot up. This was deadly, but so far we were holding well. Surely participating in Gimli and Legolas's challenge would not kill me. They were still alive. It could only help to keep fear at bay. How many had I killed? I'd struck a good many, but probably only killed four or five directly. Would my numbers still count if I died before this battle ended?

I pushed that detail from my mind and began striking back at orcs again.

Another by the neck. Six. One under the arm, and then his throat. Seven. One by an exposed part of its leg…but caught by an arrow. Didn't count.

I fell into a dizzy rhythm of swinging, ducking out of the way, and keeping a mental tally of those I killed. My head spun. Drawn swords, dead faces, arrows, rocks, the glimmer of light from the torches, endless rain. Nine kills. Not very bad. I was pleasantly surprised.

"Kill him!" I turned on my heel, recognizing the phrase among the hundreds just like it belonged to Aragorn.

I tried to see what was going on, but remained lost in the crowd. An orc leapt at me and I swung.

There was a sound louder than anything I had ever heard, and a great vibration threw me down a flight of nearby stairs. My vision was blurred, and the world spun faster. "Gideon!" I caught Gimli's voice calling after me.

When I looked up, the wall had a gaping hole in it.


	37. Chapter 36 (Until the dawn)

The sound of the wall exploding open left my ears ringing. I heard nothing of people shouting, or swords clashing, only a constant whine in my head as my ears tried to restore hearing. My vision was blurry, from a combination of being tossed down a flight of stairs and rainwater now falling into my eyes, as I lay on my back.

"Gideon!" I thought I heard my name but it sounded like a whisper lost in all the ringing. "Where is he?"

I felt around for something, finding the wall nearby and propped myself up, swiping rain out of my eyes and finally remembering to breathe. What had happened? I glanced beside me and saw a hand, pale, most likely elven, laying lifelessly on the ground, and dared not look further, avoiding the face of fallen archer.

My hearing finally returned to me, and the air was filled with shouts again. Water was spreading everywhere, and orcs were already crossing the threshold, making their way over the debris. I did not wish to be here when many were storming through. I raised my self on somewhat shaky legs and followed the wall quickly, heading back to the staircase I had been flung from. With each step my head became gradually clearer. I saw men fighting but my friends faces were not among them. A dreadful thought occurred. Had they been standing where the wall was broken? Surely some soldiers must have been there when it happened…had they been some of the unfortunate men?

"Aragorn?!" I called out, raising my sword again. "Gimli?! Legolas?!"

I saw a flash of pale hair near me, and ran to the figure, expecting Legolas. "Legol-" The name was cut short when the figure turned and I saw Haldir instead of my companion. "Oh."

"Watch out." Haldir pushed me aside, and cut down an orc that had been charging in our direction. Many of them had abandoned the use of the ladders now that there was a large hole in the wall.

"Have you seen Aragorn, or any of the others?" I asked, raising my sword and striking against the back of another orc.

Below us, someone gave the order to charge. I ceased fighting for a brief moment and saw who it was. Aragorn, I breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of him. He looked like he had been thrown against the ground, but he was still standing. I watched as the two armies collided, another great mess of swords, arrows and fighting. Something alive and rather disheveled was all but drowning in a pool of water near the gap. Aragorn splashed his way to the creature and fished it out. It was only then that I could see that it was no animal at all, but rather Gimli, drenched from head to toe.

"Up here!" I shouted at them, waving an arm. I had to let them know I was also alive, and ask if they had seen the elf anywhere.

Aragorn looked up the broken wall to see me close to its edge. His eyes widened. "Gideon, get back!"

"Is Legolas down there?" I demanded.

"Behind you!"

I was hit roughly over the shoulder, by the hilt of a blade. The force of the blow threatened to send me over the edge of the wall, but I collapsed down to ground to avoid the deadly fall. I saw no face, only a helmet, with misty breath escaping from it. I realised the grasp on my sword had not given out and arched the blade high, aiming for the neck. In the middle of the swing, which I was sure would have ended him, I was kicked in the stomach. I lost all breath and my blade missed its mark terribly.

The orc drew back it's sword, a clear path being presented for him to stab at my side. If the pain in my stomach was no longer coiling up my insides, I might have drawn in a tight breath. As it was, I hoped my chainmail I was wearing under my tunic was enough to stop the blade from being fatal.

But instead of striking, the creature seemed convulse, and then crumble at its knees. Haldir's face appeared again, over the shoulder of the orc. He had stabbed the creature from behind, saving my life for the second time. The orc was flung from the wall, landing with a splash in the pool of water.

"Stand." Haldir reached out to help me up. I grabbed at his arm with my free hand, the one holding my sword also being used to hold my stomach, as though I was holding my guts in. It certainly felt like I was. The orc had been far from merciful. "Breathe." Haldir reminded me.

Drawing in breath hurt, but I tried, and it grew easier by degrees. I'd lost sight of Aragorn and Gimli below us, lost somewhere in the fray, and had yet to see Legolas since the wall exploded. "You can straighten yourself up, can't you?" Haldir urged me.

Straighten up? The one thing making this easier was bending slightly over and compressing firmly on my stomach.

Now was not the time for rest though. Things had just gotten worse, and standing defenseless up here was far from helpful. I knew I had to fight again, and very quickly. I breathed, deep and slow, straightening a little.

Ignore it, Gideon. I imagined Fali saying something of that sort. We've no time, and there's no safe place to sleep it off. Ignore it. Pretend it isn't there.

I saw a boy, no older than thirteen, running along the causeway, and then disappearing inbetween the other soldiers. What was he doing here? I imagined Fali running with him, guarding him, keeping him under her wing. I imagined him sitting by Eowyn, by his mother and any younger siblings, in the caves where he should be.

It was a good enough reminder that I was still needed, and I straightened up entirely. "Go on." I said to Haldir. "Fight with the others. I'm going to search for Legolas."

He nodded. "Good, remember to strike hard." He replied. "Keep watch over your sides. Be careful." I took off down the causeway. Please, I thought. Let that elf be still alive. I hadn't seen him since the battle started, and had lost track of all time. How long had been separated? An hour or two? Even longer?

By now everyone was starting to look the same. Muddied clothes, and swirling metal, and fast movements. I was beginning to discern people on their most basic features and what type of weapon they wielded. A sword…a man. A bow….an elf. Brown hair, not pale, couldn't be Legolas. A crude helmet…an orc, cut it down. How many was that now? I couldn't recall my score from before I fell. Nine? Yes nine, or rather ten now. Another orc, with a distinct limp now. That made eleven. Another one, who just happened to be in the way. Twelve. Another and another, on and on, men, elves, orcs…

"Gideon!"

The voice and pale hair were enough to tell me that Legolas had spoken, and was still very much alive. "Legolas." I finally made my way to him. "Thank Mahal, I was beginning to think I wouldn't find you here."

"Have you seen Aragorn? And Gimli?"

"Yes, both of them." I nodded, shouting above the noise coming from the fight below us. "They're down by the break in the wall. Aragorn's leading the charge."

The elf made for the stairs immediately. "Wait!" I called after him. "Careful, they're coming up the stairwells now!" The elf paid little attention, stepping onto a fallen shield and sliding down the stairs on it, firing a few arrows in the process.

"That's a bit of a boastful display, isn't it?" I asked. He had just killed three of our enemy, made it safely down the stairs, and not lost his balance in the process. I frowned to myself…when had I turned into Gimli? I heard a snarl and swung on instinct, continuing to fight again.

"Fall back! Get to the Keep!" The order was echoed three times by various captains, Aragorn among them. The swarm of Uruks was too much for us to handle in the open. We'd need the safety of another wall. Men and Elves ran past me, following orders. My shorter height made it feel like I was almost being trampled in the rush to get to safety. I fought against the swarm, scanning the people below for my friends. I caught sight of Gimli, who was being dragged forcibly away. The sight of him, grumpy and with his feet hanging uselessly in the air, made me want to laugh.

"Fall back!" I heard the order from Haldir. He narrowed his eyes at me seriously. "Go, young master."

"Haldir, come." I called to him.

"I will follow when my men have left." He replied. "Go now."

I was practically being pulled along by the people streaming past me, and found myself flying back down the stairs. Behind me, I heard a groan of pain. No…I had seen him but a moment ago, it could not be…

I turned to find Haldir, meeting his face, just as he received a second attack from behind. There was blood staining his armor at the side.

"Haldir!" I shouted, and ran back up the stairs.

What happened next was something I only half remembered. Somehow my score made it to seventeen, and then, if I am not mistaken eighteen as well. I remember looking down at the sea of Uruks below, and see one body in particular that lay crumpled in the dirt, before the space it occupied dwindled and his 'fellow men' proceeded to step over him like a rock.

I looked back at Haldir, hoping to save the elf who had saved me twice.

Aragorn met my face instead. I had not seen or heard him coming, but there was a path of dead Uruks near the stairs, and in his arms Haldir's body was heavy and limp. He had died.

I thought back to Boromir, how I had watched him die as well. This time I found I was able to look into the lifeless eyes. It was a horrible feeling to look at them, but I found I was able to do it this time. Perhaps I had become accustomed to it, after all I had been through.

Aragorn laid the body of Haldir down. As our army fell back, orcs were swarming inside, and starting to find their way around to the causeway. "They're coming, raise your sword." Aragorn said. "Remember what you've learned, it's kept you safe thus far." He raised his own sword, the once broken heirloom, Anduril. It was then I knew he was about to do something many would consider very brave…and maybe a little foolish.

Indeed, he lived up to the look he had in his eyes, jumping onto one of the ladders and then leaping into the crowd below. " _Aragorn_!" I yelled after him. That's it, I thought. He's gone completely mad. He's as good as dead down there. Should I…help him? Jump down myself? There were still ladders up here. I looked all the way down. Was I completely mad as well?

No, to enter a crowd like that was beyond my skill. Aragorn would not wish me to be foolish. I retreated, hoping he'd have the sense to quickly do the same, coming through the gap in the wall. The stairs were crowded with orcs, but it worked in my favor to be short. A decent shove, and a sharp jab to the side, and I was able to get past them, running straight for the keep.

"I would run faster, Master Gideon." Aragorn called from behind me. I did not bother looking back to check on him, only running faster as he had said to.

Inside the walls it felt safer, if only by a meager degree. The solid stone separating us was comforting, but the constant ramming that could be heard at the gate made me jump each time. An especially loud _bang!_ made me jolt visibly.

"To the gate! Draw swords!" I looked up to see Theoden walking at a brisk pace to the nearly shattered doorway.

"Come, Gideon, quickly now." Aragorn urged me and we dashed to the gate.

When I say the condition the gate was in, my chest went tight with a sort of nauseating realisation. They were breaking through. The gate was practically shattered, with pieces already tore away. Soon all the bolts and beams would give way and the gate would burst open, unleashing…I did not want to think about what would happen next.

Theoden looked to Aragorn. "Hold them back." He said.

"How long do you need?" Aragorn immediately agreed.

"As long as you can give me."

"Gimli!" Aragorn called to the dwarf, who emerged from the crowd bracing the gate.

"I'm coming with you." I said, not thinking about the decision at all, following my friends on instinct.

"No, you are not." Aragorn shook his head.

"But-"

"You have shown much promise over the night." Aragorn said. "But I do not trust you yet to hold your own so few against so many."

"You'll need all the help you can get." I argued.

"You think we'll need help?" Gimli scoffed, a bit jokingly. "Nonsense. This is all the help I need." And he held his axe a little higher.

"Please." I resorted to manners.

"No. Not this fight." Aragorn's word was final. "Go up onto the wall. Be prepared for whatever comes next."

"Aye, the pointy-ear is up there." Gimli agreed.

"I do not need someone looking out for me all the time." I said back, perhaps a little harshly. I could already see Fali raising an eyebrow at my remark. But I had fought well enough on my own before the wall had been broken, and found some truth in my words.

Gimli's face showed just how little he cared for being at snapped at, but Aragorn remained patient. "No, I don't believe you do." He placed a hand on my shoulder. "But my order still stands…go up to the top of the wall. Fight there."

They left, giving me one last look and vanishing down a little corridor to sneak outside and to the front of the gate.

"You could stay down here, and help to brace the gate if you choose." Theoden offered, as he began adding to the mess of broken spears, extra beams and other heavy objects being shored up against the doorway.

"No." I shook my head, stepping backwards from the gate. "I'll do as he said. I'm sorry."

"Go on." Theoden waved his hand, dismissing me. "We'll manage, young one."

The top of the wall was just as hectic. Rocks, bricks, spears and arrows were all being hurled down, some hitting their targets, others bouncing off shields. I elbowed my way to the edge, so I could look over, hoping to see Aragorn and Gimli. If I couldn't fight beside them, I was going to watch over them, and…I don't know, throw a rock if one of the Uruks got too close.

Gimli leapt out of no one, crossing a great distance. I was quite surprised. Given the size of the gap he needed to cross…how on earth had he jumped that far without a running start? I smirked. Perhaps he had been thrown across. Aragorn followed, and I watched as they pushed the Uruks back from the gate, many falling over the edge of the narrow bridge.

Legolas found me a few minutes later, his quiver now freshly stocked with arrows. "He's catching up to you." I spoke of Gimli.

I could have sworn the elf frowned at the news.

"Ladders!" Someone shouted, and another row of the horrid things began rising.

"Not more of those." I muttered, stepping back and raising my sword again.

Legolas took an arrow, aimed and fired, hitting the chain for one of the ladders. The structure in question halted it's rise, swayed, and then crashed back down.

"That should even the score." I thought I heard beside me. I glanced up beside me, to see his eyes surveying the damage. Was he…was he _counting how many that was_?

"We've all gone mad." I sighed. "And I should have trained in archery."

Moments later Aragorn waved his arm at us. I stared at the movement for a second before shouting. "They need help! They have to get out of there now!"

I found rope (by tripping over it in my haste), and passed it along to Legolas. The elf tossed it over the edge of the wall, and our friends below grabbed hold. Soon we were all pulling them up. I watched as a few arrows were fired at them, but smashed against the wall. "Can they not hold back for just a moment?" I mumbled to myself. I was hoping we'd soon see Aragorn and Gimli's faces pop up from over the edge of the wall, and see that they had no arrows stuck in them.

They did, and Legolas grabbed them by the shoulder of their tunics and pulled them over safely…

…just in time for us to retreat even farther into the Keep.

It was sad to see that most of the work had been for nothing as soon as the ladders were up. Now they had a way in, gate or no gate.

A blur of activity took over my mind, which narrowed strictly to survival. Run, keep your sword up, swing, close the door, bolt the door, and proceed to find as many heavy things as you could and put them in front of the door, because this was it, _the very last door_ , and there was nowhere else to retreat to. Well, perhaps the caves, but all that would lead to would be a race for survival.

"Glad to see we're all together again." I joked, lightly, placing a beam against the door in question.

"Is the elf outscoring me?" Gimli asked.

"Is that all you really care about?" I asked.

"Is there no other way out of the caves for the women and children?" Aragorn asked Theoden, who looked like he had lost all hope.

The men were silent, and Aragorn had to repeat himself. Gamling admitted there was a passage, but they would not make it far.

"Eowyn will ensure they do." I spoke up, as grabbed hold of a splinter spear and tried to fit it into the blockade.

The order was given by Aragorn to tell the women to start making there way to the mountains, and blockade the entrance to the caves. I briefly wondered if we'd run out of beams and benches to put in front of doors. The terrible thought that we were blocking the one way we had out of here with that order occurred to me. I worked even faster on the blockade in front of me.

"So much death…what can men do against such reckless hate?" Theoden asked.

"Ride out with me."

"Are you suggesting we saddle the horses?" I asked, surprised.

"Let us ride out and meet them." Aragorn repeated, telling me he actually _was_ suggesting we saddle the horses.

"For death and glory?" Theoden asked.

"For Rohan. For it's people."

"You are the horselords, are you not?" Gimli asked. "Look…the sun is rising."

 _On the fifth day, at dawn…look to the east…_

"Gandalf…" I said. "He'll be returning."

"Yes." Theoden stood taller. "The horn of Helm Hammerhand shall sound in the deep, one last time."

"Yes!" Gimli cheered. "Allow me!"

"Gimli, wait!" I called after him.

"Let this be the hour we draw swords together." Theoden beamed at Aragorn. Aragorn turned it me then.

"Will we be drawing swords together as well?" I asked. "Or will you have me chasing after Gimli?"

Aragorn relented. "You will ride with us, Gideon."

A red dawn followed, as I sat on the back of a horse, behind Aragorn. The horn bellowed, Theoden shouted for glory and for freedom, and there was the pounding of hooves, on ground and on stone floors. We met our enemy at the gate, and they met their ends at our swords. When we had broken free of the fray I glanced around eagerly. "Can you see him? Do you see the wizard anywhere?"

"Yes." Aragorn said, and pointed to the east. Gandalf was on Shadowfax, and an army of horses and riders materialized behind him.

They swept down the hill like a wave from the sea. Just before they reached their mark, the sun rose over the edge of the earth, and I had never seen anything so bright after the dark of this night. It was then that I knew all would be well. We had lasted the night. Our enemy was retreating as the horsemen returned to us. Finally…

We chased our enemy back to the forest, where they hide, and we dared not follow. Upon return, my head was heavy with fatigue. I stumbled my way to the caves.

"He was already dead!"

"He was twitching."

"He was twitching because he's got my axe embedded in his nervous system!" Gimli groused, shaking his axe, and causing the body of an orc to twitch violently. "Gideon!"

"Yes, Gimli?"

"Tell the elf he's lost his mind." Gimli requested of me. "I've never seen such blatant cheating in my life."

"Are you two at a draw?" I asked.

"No, I clearly won." Gimli crossed his arms. "Forty-three to forty-two."

I looked at the dwarf, the elf, and the dead orc with an axe and an arrow in it.

Perhaps it was because I was so tired, or maybe it was because I was happy I had lived. Maybe I had gone completely mad.

"I don't know Gimli…" I couldn't hide a smirk. "Generally, if it twitches, it isn't dead enough."


	38. Chapter 37 (Gollum and Smeagol)

"Do you think we fight too much?" I asked Kegan .

"No." He replied. "Why? What gave you an idea like that?" We both smirked at each other, in between our crossed swords.

We broke apart again, both of us tried to swing at the same time, colliding, crossing blades again, and then stepping back in defensive stances. "I don't know, the idea just suddenly popped into my head." I joked. "But really…do we fight too much?"

"You love sparring, why so much concern?"

"It isn't very ladylike for one thing."

"Etiquette with your grandmother again?" I nodded in reply. "How did that go?"

"Terrible…worse than terrible, utterly horrendous." I sighed. "Tauris would make a better lady than I would." I grinned a little to myself. "Even _Fien_ would make a better lady than I would."

Kegan swung hard just as I finished my sentence, trying to pull my blade from my hand. My eyes narrowed at him in response. "Almost got you." He smirked back and his eyes lit up, turning from grey to silver. I both loved and hated it when they did that.

I pushed him but he pushed harder, and after a few more swings and attempts to gain the upper hand again I landed in the sand. Silver eyes were shining when he announced "I win." with a smug looking smile, lopsided as always.

"I don't stand much of a chance after ladyship lessons anyway." I shrugged.

"As chilly a reception as I would get from a December forge." Kegan smiled down at me.

"Now you're just trying to be sweet." I glared at him, albeit more softly.

"It's a rather odd name of endearment."

"Mother smiles every time Father calls her it though." I recalled fondly.

"Yet you glare when I call you it."

"Honestly, I kiss you a handful of times and you expect me to smile when you win and hang on your arm." I rolled my eyes, my tone sarcastic.

"Well, actually…"

"Kegan!"

"Oi, I'm only joking with you." He smiled. "Beloved."

I made a face at the term. Kegan noticed quickly. "Well you could pull a better face than that."

"Sorry." I apologized. "But beloved…" I made another face when I had to repeat the word. "…is a little too much."

"After all the creativity I wasted on coming up with the name." Kegan mock-scoffed.

"Creative?" I raised an eyebrow. "Every man in the histories since the gods made stone has called his wife or intended beloved."

"Well you can't mess around with something that's worked since stone came into existence." Kegan smirked. " _Beloved_." He laughed at how my face cringed, and held out a hand to bring me to my feet. I pulled him down instead, delivering a sharp beating to his shoulder, trying to pin him to the ground and eventually giving in among the laughter and struggle to place a kiss to his face.

The sound of a man clearing his throat captured my attention and I looked up from Kegan's face to see my father standing by the edge of the arena. I glanced down apologetically at Kegan. "I have to go." I said. "More etiquette, now that Grandmother is done with her duties again."

"Goodbye belo-" I glared and he corrected himself. "Goodbye Fali."

Much better.

/

I awoke, my mind trying to cling to memories of silver eyes and friendly spars, and my grandmother trying her best to teach me how I should address different lords and ladies. But all memories of family, friends and carefree afternoons were swept away, revealing only a very grey morning. A single ray of sun streaked across the sky…silver, for a moment and then also gone…I missed Kegan. I'd never say how much, for fear of him laughing over it. We were young, and he was being charming, and people often teased about 'first loves' when we passed by on our way to the training grounds…but right now I wanted his hand, outstretched to lift me up, more than anything. I wanted to hear my father cough from the side, I wanted my mother's comforting smile.

Homesickness had struck me, strong and unexpected.

Maybe if Sam hadn't spoken so much about stories that mattered…maybe then I could have kept my family in the back of my mind and focus on what was important right now.

"Why does it look so sad?"

I turned to Gollum, who was watching me. I found a single tear was trailing down my cheek. "I am not." I retorted, getting up and stretching out my back, hearing a series of clicks and pops as it straightened itself out. An old storm sewer had not made for a very soft bed last night.

Gollum shook his nearly hairless head. "It knows…"

"Nothing, so you've told me before." I shrugged him. I glanced over the hobbits.

"Well at least you didn't eat them while I was asleep.' I muttered to myself.

"Eats them?" Gollum laughed, and it was a very unsettling laugh, like that of a mad man, only lighter and as if the one laughing had not drank a drop of water in years. "Why would we eats them?"

"I can imagine you getting very hungry one night." I said, but inside I was thinking 'You were very badly treated when Faramir's men caught you…I don't know they did to you exactly but I'm sure you didn't like it…you probably expected Frodo to do something, and none of us lifted a finger for you…not to mention Faramir warned us not to trust you before he mentioned this storm drain and had you by the throat…'

How was I supposed to help this creature? Could he even be helped? The only way I could think to help him was to put him out of his misery.

You could, I thought to myself, and the idea itself inserted a large amount of paranoia into my head, almost as though I believed Gollum could hear my thoughts. Frodo and Sam are asleep. The way to Mordor is clearer now. Surely it won't be too hard to find the stairs that Gollum had spoken of. I could find them when we reached the cliff…I had grown up in dwarf kingdom, I knew how to find stairs etched into solid rock. I could kill him. Here. Now.

No, not here. The sound of it would wake Frodo. And if I there wasn't enough room in the sewer to ensure the first strike would be fatal either. Gollum, if he lived, would only be angrier…even deadly.

But I could find a way...just maybe…

I walked out of the old sewer and headed for the forest were right by. The trees were bare, twisted, knotted things, with strangely pale bark. The whole forest looked sick or evil in it's own way, and I doubted that I'd find even a crow in the woods to hunt down.

"What's it doing?" Gollum watched me. "Where's it going? Is it leaving us?" He seemed almost happy at the thought I could be leaving. Did he not want me here? He wasn't fond of me per say…but he seemed almost too joyous. I wondered if it was because I protected Sam and Frodo so fiercely, and he wanted to hurt them. I would never let that happen. Gollum may have said all was forgiven, that he would be decent, but I remembered what Faramir said, and my trust did not lie with the creature.

"I'm not leaving, I'm only to go see if I can hunt something down. If there's anything to be found at all." I huffed. "And your coming with me." I added, turning around and giving him a hard glare, clearly showing how serious I was. The statement was not meant as a suggestion, but rather a command.

Gollum showed some resistance and I thought he looked straight into my mind and seen my sinister plot there. He looked back at the slumbering hobbits, but I hardened my glare and said "Well come on." He followed, crawling on the ground behind me. I set out, walking him as far away as I could.

A thousand things tumbled through my mind. Was I really doing this? He was a person, in a way.

But he wanted us dead, I was almost sure of it.

But not quite sure.

We didn't need him anymore.

Perhaps we did need a guide.

I would regret it if I didn't do it.

Would Mother and Father forgive me?

He was more creature than human anyway…and not the nice, trustworthy sort of creature.

Would I forgive myself?

This was murder…what an awful word.

But I had to keep the hobbits safe.

Soon we were far enough away, and I pretended to search over the trees and bare shrubs for tracks. "Nothing." I sighed, shaking my head. "Not even lizards for you."

"Nothing grows…nothing stays." Gollum said behind me.

"We'll keep looking." I said. "Come on." Gollum looked back the way we'd come. "I said, come on now." I added. "We have to find something. The lembas won't last forever. And we have a long way back as well."

The ground grew softer. Not good for burrowing creatures, it retained too much moisture, and gods only knew how wretched the water that gathered here was. It was at the end of an old sewage drain after all…

I continued searching, partially to make Gollum think all was well, and partially because it would be nice if I could actually hunt something. I had not been lying when I said our supply of lembas was waning. Frodo had fell asleep after traveling through the drain, somewhat fitfully, but still asleep, and Sam and I had taken the opportunity to check over our supplies.

"There's not much left, is there Miss Fali?"

"There's enough." I replied. "We'll just have to be careful."

"Ration it, you mean?"

"Yes Sam. It is elvish bread, even small pieces will feed us." I grinned. "Remember when Pippin ate four squares of it? He was so sick in the boat, stuffed full like a turkey at Yuletide."

"Aye, I remember." Sam said, his tone happy as we remembered that time. "I'll never tell the Took this, but I'm actually starting to miss his antics. Him and Merry both."

"Me too." I sighed. "Mischievous…but sweet fools nonetheless."

It had taken time, and bit of arguing over how many meals and days we would still have ahead of us, and the two of us tried to work out math with parchment or quill, and keep the scenarios and sums all aligned, but we sorted out the lembas, rationed the water we had with us, hoping that a decent well would be found when we returned to more civilised land on the journey home, and finally got some sleep, trusting that the sewer offered enough shelter.

"Doesn't like us…" Gollum said through hushed breath.

"To be fair, I'm not sure if you like us either." I replied, looking back to see Gollum plucking worms from the dirt. "You only seem to like Frodo." Though that may have changed by now…I reminded myself.

"Master." Gollum nodded.

I wandered slowly behind Gollum, still pretending to be looking for game, as he continued to pull worms out of the earth. "If only you had a family we could have just returned to you to." I said. Or a cage, I thought inside.

"What does it know?"

"About family?" I asked. "More than you will ever know." I silently drew my sword. "Back home, I have a mother and father, and more uncles than I can count on both hands. And brothers, three of them." I touched my bear-shaped pendent. "Gideon." I mumbled.

"Who is it?"

"Gideon." I said, more strongly. "The youngest of my brothers. He came with us."

"He's gone…dead." Gollum said.

"He is not dead!" I snapped, and found my temper suddenly fueling me, giving me the strength to do what I needed to. "He just didn't follow us. He stayed back with the others. He went home."

"He left it behind."

"He did not, I choose to do this." I argued. Gollum's attention remained on the worms.

I pointed the sword at Gollum, slowly coming closer, aiming it between his ribs. Quick, I thought. One strike. He may cry out, but only once. If I strike hard enough, he won't even make any sound at all. It may even be painless. Not that I cared very much about how the creature died, I just wanted him gone as soon as possible. I'd swing for his neck and behead him, but I was afraid he would see my shadow or suspect if I came any closer.

You need to do this. I spoke to myself inside. For Frodo, for Sam. We've been more and more on edge since he came along. He's unstable now that he's been mistreated. Never mind that, he's always been unstable. You can do this. You _should_ do this. I raised my blade, readying to strike. It will end soon. Frodo will have to forgive you. He has to understand that you did it because you were afraid that Gollum would kill him, for the Ring, now that the trust between the two has been broken. Do it. Now.

I gritted my teeth, closed my eyes down to slits, and made to strike.

"Deagol."

"What? Who?" I asked, remembering that if I stayed quiet Gollum may turn around and see me with my sword raised, ready to impale him. "Don't tell your three different people now. It was hard enough with two."

"No." Gollum's tone was…almost sad, his voice caught between a broken cry and a whimper. "Smeagol's brother."

"Your brother?" I asked. "Gollum you have a brother?" I tried to imagine two pale, sickly creatures crawling about in caves, eating lizards and thinking they were five different people all at once. I found myself cringing.

"No, not me!" A deep, cracked voice snapped back. "Me." The whimper returned. "He's gone…left us behind…dead."

I suddenly found myself thinking of Gollum before he was…well, Gollum. Smeagol…Deagol…the similarity of the names reminded me of my own siblings and I. Frerin, Fien, Fali. Gideon did not fit, but he was named after a long past uncle, on our mother's side, showing his family ties that way instead. It occurred to me that Gollum had once been, dare I say it, human. He'd once walked on two legs and eaten decent cooked food, and spoke coherently and looked normal. And he'd had a family.

Smeagol…at first I'd thought it just another person inside his head, but now I was discovering the truth. Before Gollum, he had been Smeagol. It wasn't an alternate person, it was a memory of who was before he was corrupted. He tried to cling to what remained of himself. The softer side of him was Smeagol, dying out, and the harsh side was Gollum, trying to cast out the old memories forever.

Pity struck my heart, slashing between my ribs like I had wanted to do to Gollum. All my desires to kill him vanished. I found I couldn't bring myself to do it anymore. He now seemed too human. He now seemed so pitiful. I lowered my blade. "C'mon." I said, softly. "Let's go back now. There's nothing to hunt."

Gollum followed in my shadow, and every time I looked back at him his eyes were full of sadness. Halfway back a lone lizard came across our path and I even stepped on the edge of it's tail, letting Gollum snatch it up.

Watching him eat the tiny reptile was still unsettling to me. Perhaps we'll be alright, I thought. I wondered for a moment if I was too soft hearted. I always had a habit of protecting anything weaker than me. Children, friends…Gideon.

I sighed looking back again at Gollum.

Hopefully, I would not live to regret what happened today.


	39. Chapter 38 (Death and glory)

When we opened the caves the women came flying out, running to look for husbands, brothers, fathers. Arms were thrown around necks, cheeks were kissed, smiles were exchanged, and eyes emptied of tears. Men began to gather the wounded and bring them into the Keep, where food and bedding were waiting. I stumbled along my way, brain heavy with fatigue now that all the adrenaline from the night was fading. "Gideon!" I saw Eowyn approaching and smiled. "You've made it through." She smiled in relief. "I'm glad."

"So am I." I nodded, happy to hear the small chuckle the statement earned. "How did the night pass in the caves?"

"Terrible." Eowyn said. "So dim, and the noise from out here was constant, we could hear nothing but them thundering on the ground…and then there was the sound of that explosion." She shook her head. "We were so worried we could hardly breathe in those caves."

"I don't think it was much better out here." I said. "We're lucky the wizard returned." Much like in my mother's stories, Gandalf possessed an uncanny habit of showing up just when he was needed most.

"You do look somewhat disheveled." Eowyn nodded over me.

"Yes…about the food and bedding you promised to help with earlier…I don't suppose we could find some for me?"

She smiled gently and led me into the Keep, where exhausted men were finally resting. I remember lying down in a heap, and nothing else.

/

I was woken some hours later by Aragorn. I opened only a single eye and said, through a small smile, "I understand that practise is important…but can we not forget about training today? I think I received plenty of practise last night."

"We're leaving at the end of the hour to find Merry and Pippin." Aragorn said. "Gandalf says it is now safe for them to join us."

"Merry and Pippin…" I sat up. "It's been so long. We've known they're safe, but we haven't actually seen them since the Fellowship broke apart." I said quietly.

"It's a long overdue reunion." Aragorn nodded.

"They'll want to know what happened to Fali and the others."

"Difficult news to bring to them, but needed." Aragorn nodded. "Get up, we'll leave soon."

I nodded, rose to my feet, realised Eowyn had been kind enough to take my boots off my feet and cover me with a blanket as I slept like a dead man, and went to go and finally wash off the dirt that had smothered itself over my arms and face in the battle. I watched the water in the basin I found turn from clear to a dull brown as I splashed it onto my face.

By the time I'd grabbed a bit of breakfast and found my way to the stables, the horses were all saddled and Gandalf was already sitting on Shadowfax, fully prepared to leave. I was surprised to that it was not just our company that was preparing to leave, but Theoden and Eomer as well. "Where are we going?" I thought to ask.

" Back to Fangorn, closer to Isengard." Aragorn answered shortly. "Get on." He nodded to his horse.

"Isengard? But-" I then realised that Isengard would be nearly empty now without it's ten thousand soldiers in it. I quieted myself and mounted the horse.

"Glad to see you've recovered some more, lad." Gimli said, just as we set off. "You looked like you were walking asleep last we saw you. No doubt that's what clouded your judgement earlier." He spoke of my comment that Legolas may have won their little contest. He was glaring lightly at Legolas, who had a shadow of a smirk on his face as well.

"Can the two of you not just be glad that you made it out of that fight alive?" I rolled my eyes. "Fali liked sparring just for the sport of it."

This caused Gimli to grumble for a few seconds about 'obviously winning' and that I was 'playing favorites'.

"Either way, Gimli, you did better than I did." I added.

"You were keeping score as well?" Aragorn asked.

"A bit foolish maybe." I admitted. "But it proved to be a good distraction. There was so much happening at once, it was better to just focus on one more orc after another."

"What number?" Gimli asked.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"How many did you finish off?"

"Oh…" I had to count them off in my head again, thinking over the battle. "Twenty-four by the end of it all."

Gimli hummed in praise. "Twenty-four." He stated again. "Not bad at all. A number to be proud of surely."

"You killed nearly twice as many." I said modestly of the accomplishment.

"You've shown much improvement." Aragorn said. "Don't think I did not notice how you snapped at us when we told you to stay back." He added, more quietly.

"Sorry about that." I muttered the apology quietly back.

"He has." Gimli seemed proud. "Stood by us the entire night, didn't cower away, lived through it all with a score of twenty-four." Gimli smiled. "You've stopped stuttering and mumbling to yourself too. And you've started to grow a beard."

"What?" I asked, surprised.

"A beard, aye." Gimli nodded. "Nothing very much, but it's there."

I began feeling about my face, rubbing one cheek with my palm. My temple was smooth, but my chin and jaw were rougher. "Are you sure it isn't just leftover dirt?" I asked. Perhaps I had not washed as well I thought I did, perhaps I had still been tired.

Eomer laughed at me good-naturedly. "No, young one, it isn't." I rubbed against my cheek even harder, which made him laugh even harder. "Don't act so surprised."

I couldn't believe it. I had been much like my Uncle Kili, unable to grow facial hair, but not even the shadow of a beard that he had. Now it seemed to have miraculously appeared on my face overnight. When I returned home no one would believe it, I'd look so different to them. Fali would be just as surprised as I was now, when she saw me again.

"Your family will be in for a surprise when you see them again." Gimli echoed my thoughts.

Yes…they would be in for a number of surprises. I was the first person that came to mind when one thought of battles or facial hair. Now I had stubble on my cheeks and had lived through a seemingly impossible battle. I briefly wondered if my family would even recognize me.

"Isengard is just beyond." Gandalf spoke after some time, motioning to the top of a black tower which could be seen in the distance.

"Where are they?" I asked. "Surely you didn't ask for them to go into Isengard?"

"They were never very good at listening…" Gandalf heaved a heavy sigh, as though he already knew we would end up finding our two hobbits there. "Come along."

Sure enough, our path did lead us into Isengard which was experiencing…a flood? I could think of no other reason for the great quantity of water. In the deepest sections it would have risen to the middle of my chest, maybe even higher. Then I saw beams that would have been for pulleys and other machines, torn and splintered like they had been tossed about in river rapids. "Must have been quite the storm." I said.

"The dam has broken." Aragorn corrected me.

"Well, that's a better explanation for all this." I said. "Hopefully Merry and Pippin made it out all right, from what Fali told me they're not particularly strong swimmers." I just finished my sentence before I saw a lone willow tree move. I blinked a few times. It moved again. Surely the wind…but no it moved again, not just waving about like in a breeze but taking a step forward, wading through the water. Then it turned, as though it had a body, and looked at me with what could only be described as a face.

"Gandalf, ummm…" I began. "I can't help but notice, some of the trees…." I saw a birch and maple taking steps as well. "Are moving, like people."

"They're Ents, Master Gideon." Gandalf explained shortly. "It seems like we shall find our hobbits soon, I left them under the protection of one such forest shepherd."

As we approached the gate, which was now crumbled and broken, we heard a familiar voice. "Welcome, my lords!...to Isengard!" And there was Merry, living very much up to his name as he stood on top of large wall, a pipe in hand. Beside him sat a grinning Pippin. Aragorn smiled at them, pleased to see them safe and in such good spirits. I found my mouth gaped open a little at just how happy they seemed, in Isengard of all places. Of all the ways we could have found them…there were smiling? And smoking? As though they were enjoying a summer's day in the Shire? My look of surprise turned to a grin. They were safe, that was all that mattered. Fali would have been joyous…and probably boxed their ears for being just a bit too cheerful after causing us so much worry.

"You young rascals! A merry chase you've led us on, and now we find you feasting and… and smoking!" Gimli scolded them.

Pippin, who had probably drunken a little too much, replied "We are sitting on the field of victory, enjoying a few well-earned comforts. The salted pork is particularly good."

"Food, of course." I rolled my eyes. Gandalf likewise muttered 'Hobbits' to himself.

Merry explained how Treebeard, the Ent Gandalf had spoken of, had been minding them, and was now 'management of Isengard'. The Ent in question was a tall, sturdy fellow, with a long beard of lichen and moss. Treebeard's voice resembled the bending of boughs in the wind. "Wood and water, stock and stone I can master, but there's a Wizard to manage here, locked in his tower." The Ent gazed up the dark tower, and we all exchanged glances uncomfortably.

Aragorn called out for Saruman to show himself, and Gimli wanted to end the wizard then and there, but Gandalf was wiser, and knew we needed to speak with the dark wizard, meaning he had to be alive.

"You have fought many wars and slain many men Théoden king, and made peace afterwards. Can we not take council together, as we once did, my old friend?" I glanced up to see an old man in white robes, with a harsher face than Gandalf's.

I feared the words may have been some spell to persuade Theoden, but he called back, with growing determination "We shall have peace… peace, but only when you answer for the burning of the westfold, and the people that lie dead there. We shall have peace, but only when the lives of the soldiers, with bodies that were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornburg, are avenged! Your army is defeated, and your fortress broken…you hang for the sport of your own crows."

This statement, while well spoken and strong, did not ease any of the growing tension.

Gandalf sought to remedy that. "Your work has cost thousands of lives, Saruman, while you were deep in dark counsel. But you could aid to save thousands more."

Unfortunately, while Saruman was stuck in his tower, he was not foolish. He perceived that Gandalf meant to gather information from him, and I watched from below, as he produced an dark orb from his robes. "Something festers in the heart of Middle-Earth. You have failed to see it. But the Great Eye has seen it. Even now he presses his advantage. His attack will come soon." He smirked down at us "You're all going to die. You know this, don't you, Gandalf?"

"Aragorn…" I whispered. "Is he speaking the truth?"

"Pay no attention to what he says." Aragorn replied, tensely.

"The Ranger will never sit upon the throne of Gondor." Saruman continued. "This exile from the shadows will never wear the crown." I found it easier now to pay him no attention. Everything I knew of Aragorn told me he would make for a great king.

"I've heard enough." Gimli growled. "Shoot him." Legolas made to grab an arrow from his quiver, but Gandalf stopped him.

"Come down Saruman, and your life will be spared!" I grimaced at the words, having no desire to travel with Saruman.

"I've no use for your pity or your mercy." The wizard shouted back, and fire followed his words. I flinched behind Aragorn. I looked up, prepared to see singed faces, but everyone was unharmed. The staff in Saruman's hands broke, crumbling into fragments. His shadow moved at stepped forward, and I saw that it was not a shadow but Grima Wormtongue, the man we had encountered in Rohan.

"So this is where he ran off to after we threw him out of the hall." I said. Perhaps it would have been better to let justice run it's course then.

Theoden tried to speak again with Grima. "Come down, Grima, you were once man of Rohan." He called. Grima protested. It was obvious he thought that Saurman was the more powerful master. "Be free of him." Theoden pressed.

These were the words that started the end of wizard.

"He will never be free." Saruman shouted back, and these words seemed to surprise Grima. Had he not suspecting that he would be a servant to this man? No better than a slave? He had not seen it, and the realisation hit him harshly, as he was knocked back by the wizard.

"Saruman, you were deep in the enemy's counsel, tell us what you know." Gandalf made a last attempt.

"Withdraw your guard and I will tell you of your doom." But after these words Saurman's face stiffened, and his skin paled, his mouth open in a silent gasp. His shadow, Grima, moved again, this time revealing a dagger than sank into the wizard's back again.

"Now!" Gimli shouted, and Legolas drew an arrow, and fired it into Grima's heart. The shadow fell away, and Saruman fell forward, landing with a jolting sound on a wheel, and dropping into the water below.

I would never get used to seeing people die.

Pippin slipped down from the horse he was on and wadded through the water, picking up something that seemed to glow. "Pippin." Aragorn gave a sharp warning. The hobbit held up the dark orb that Saruman had held.

Peregrin Took, I'll take that, my lad." Gandalf said. Pippin was reluctant. "Quickly now." The wizard added, and somewhat begrudgingly, Pippin handed over the orb.

We rode back to Edoras, and I found myself rubbing against my jaw again, still bewildered by the coarseness that met my hand. "Ha!" Merry laughed. "We've been gone so long Gideon started to grow a beard."

"Where's Fali?" Pippin asked. "Did she not come with you?"

/

The hobbits had suspected that Boromir had not survived his injuries, and were grieved to hear the news confirmed. They had even seen Frodo dash away and had suspected that as well. But Sam and Fali following had been a bit of a shock to them. They sobered up when they heard tale of the battle we'd hand, and were quick to help in any way they could.

They weren't very bright, and could not help with the wounded much, but their friendly demeanour helped to raise spirits. When all had returned to Edoras there was a celebration, in honor of victory and in remembrance of the fallen, and the two were determined to make sure everyone had a good time.

The beginning of the evening was serious, with words spoken in remembrance, and we hailed the dead, but it quickly became a happy occasion, which was what we so badly needed. I watched as Merry and Pippin drew in a crowd with song, as friends shared drink and food and stories, and Tehoden and Aragorn looked proudly over the bustling hall.

"Gideon." Gimli called me over, motioning to the seat beside him. I eyed Gimli, Legolas, and the pints laid before them. Would these two ever stop competing against each other? Well, it was better than the bickering we had started out with… "Care to join?"

"Me?" I asked. "In a drinking contest? Do you think it wise Gimli?" For my own part, I had a few concerns. I had seen enough of the aftermath of first drinking contests from my older brothers. Frerin had been given a head-splitting migraine, which he used as a punishment on himself to ensure he was never insensible again, not even giving in to a cup of tea the morning after to atone for his stupidity. Fien had been just as sick, but louder when he arrived home, earning him a decent lecture from Mother and a few swats from one of her dancing slippers. He caved in under the pressure building in his skull, drank his remedy, leading to a few more evenings where the contests got out of hand before he gained control.

But me? I'd had ale and wine and such before, but had never indulged in seeing just how much could be consumed in the form of contest. Some part of me cried out to remain rational, and another was curious to see how I would fair, and to be included in the unspoken rite of passage.

"Aye." Gimli beamed. "You've got a beard on your face now, you could try your luck, see how your stomach holds out."

The curiosity won out. "I suppose I could try." I sat down and Eomer placed a pint in front of me. And so the contest began, Gimli quickly gulping down the drink in order to get a lead start. I was more sensible and thought to pace myself at least. I glanced over Legolas, who was only calm, drinking serenely.

The atmosphere remained happy. Pippin and Merry remained on top their table, lungs being put to good use as they belted out songs from the Shire. There was a jubilance in the air, the sort of joy that comes with celebrating the very fact that you're alive. Laughter, food, drink, merriment, song. I was reminded of happy times under the mountain. Yuletides where we would all gather in the Great Hall. Summer evenings with all my 'uncles' sitting at our table. Long nights spread before the fire, all of us children lying on the floor, spent of energy and completely content. The warmth of the ale entering my stomach reminded me of the warmth of those fires. It felt good to be surrounded by it all.

I knew I really had not much hope of winning the contest from the beginning, with the way Gimli drank with gusto, and Legolas remained oddly calm and drank as though he was being handed water the whole time. Toward the end of it, there was a pleasant lightness to my head.

I also came to realise that people will act in certain ways when they've drank a lot of ale. Some become more jubilant, some sleepy, some more out spoken , and others will start to lose their sense. Gimli was the sort of person that fell into the latter category. By the time the table was filled with his empty pints all the ale had seemed to loosen his brain, as well as his tongue. I had stopped drinking, taking only the occasional sip now, observing rather than competing. I listened to Gimli's ramblings about swimming, forges exploding, and a few more tales about his father Gloin. No amount of ale could make him forget those.

I couldn't stop watching Legolas either because he just kept on drinking, and _nothing_ was happening to him. Every time I expected he had finally drank enough, nothing happened to him, and he simply picked up another ale.

Then finally…

"Oh dear, I feel something." And everyone who was watching over the contest looked over to Legolas.

"What?" I asked. "Finally some light-headedness? A full stomach?"

"A slight tingling in my fingertips." Legolas answered. "I think it's beginning to affect me."

At which point Gimli slurred out that the elf couldn't hold his liquor, went a little cross-eyed, and fell back, out cold.

"I win." Legolas stated, looking smug.

"It's partially my fault I suppose." I said, as I looked over Gimli again. "If I'd let him win your contest during the battle, he wouldn't have tried to push himself so hard. Or started a contest at all." I grinned back at the elf. "Tingling in your fingertips, huh?" I smirked, finishing off the last bit of the pint in front of me. "Elves aren't even affected by drink, are they?"

Legolas shook his head. "Not from this ale."

After this I left to enjoy the rest of the merriment. But among the song and dance, the longer the liquor sat in my stomach the more…inebriated…I became. I started off quite jubilant, then became tired, and Eowyn found me just as I began to feel ill. She saw that I had turned pale, and perhaps a little green in hue, and escorted me to the chambers where the Fellowship and I were to sleep. After a brief spell of being sick, I mistook her for Fali, even more so than the last time. She had to gently explain she wasn't my sister, and I ended the night crying into her sleeve as she held me up, missing Fali, and feeling guilt for having such fun while she struggled out in the wild somewhere.

For the second night in a row she had to take off my boots for me, and cover me with a blanket. It wasn't my proudest night, and I vowed I'd both apologize and make up for my behaviour when I was better rested.

I dreamt that night of home.


	40. Chapter 39 (Past and future)

It began the same every night since that day. Peaceful sleep, perhaps dreams of home, so confusingly real I could have sworn I was sleeping in my own bed again, or eating at a table with familiar faces. Family, and friends who drifted by, and I felt as though I could just reach out and touch them. And then one way or another I would end up back away from camp. It didn't matter what I was dreaming of before, I may walk through a door that was supposed to open to a closet, or fall and find myself standing there.

And then it was just Gollum and I, with him facing away from me, and my blade in my hands. Kill him…don't kill him…Everything would be still and quiet, and then my heart would beat faster, the sound of it growing, until it was pounding and constant, and it wouldn't stop until I gritted my teeth and screamed above it.

I would give in, and the blade would sink down into his shoulder blades.

/

I woke with a start. My heart was pounding but the noise wasn't external. Not again…I sighed internally. This was turning into an awful nightly ritual. Every time I fell asleep my actions seemed to haunt me, sometimes interrupting my sleep three times in a night. In some dreams I killed Gollum and that was it, I simply woke up. Other nights I would keep dreaming for another moment and he would suddenly be unharmed again, claiming I had killed Gollum but not Smeagol.

It was beginning to wear on me, this terrible sleep.

"FalI?" Frodo asked, wide awake, and sitting up.

"Aren't you supposed to be asleep?" We had all surrendered our watches for sleep over the last few days.

"I couldn't." He shook his head. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine." I said, glancing around. My eyes landed on Gollum who lay curled up and sleeping a few feet away from us. I focused on the even breathing in his chest, and his closed eyes. Was he asleep? Or was he just pretending? "I'll be fine." I repeated, when I assured myself that the creature was truly asleep. "You really should be sleeping Frodo. You haven't had enough rest for quite a while. It's beginning to show on you…Sam and I are beginning to see shadows under your eyes."

"I don't feel so tired." He assured me.

"That's the problem." I said as I readjusted my cloak over my feet. "You're starting to not feel much of anything. You forget that you're hungry, you don't feel the need for sleep even though you need it." I looked at him, seeing the shadows that I had spoken of.

"It's the Ring's doing if you ask me." I said. "I know it is. You would be so much better off if you…" I paused, deciding it was best not to bring up the idea of letting someone else bear it around their neck for a day or two. "…if you just tucked it away at the bottom of one of our bags for a while." I finished.

"It's my responsibility to be the Ring bearer." Frodo stated quickly, and I couldn't help but notice how he clutched at the Ring. "A few nights without much sleep are a small price to pay."

"Well I don't see how it's necessary to wear it around your neck all the time." I said, quietly. "You could just as easily carry it around in a bag. The sooner we get rid of that the Ring the better." I smiled at him. "Then you'll be able to eat and drink and rest…at home." I sighed to myself. "Home…I'm starting to miss the mountain…the noise of the furnaces, my family, the foothills…." I looked up at the sky. "As much as I enjoy seeing the sky all the time I think I've begun to have a craving to see stone ceilings. Odd, isn't it?" I looked over to Frodo. "What do you miss most about home?"

"It won't do us any good to dwell on the things we can't have right now." Frodo said. "I'd hate to lower anyone's morale."

"Bag End then?" I asked. "Lovely little place…if I didn't live under a mountain I'd do fine with a Hobbit-hole. Solid walls…buried in the earth." I yawned. "Somewhere nice and…safe." I yawned again.

"Yes…safe." Frodo repeated me softly.

"What do you miss other than your home?" I asked again. "It's too bad that you didn't live in it very long after it got passed down to you. Things got rather interrupted, didn't they?"

"The usual things."

"What?" I nearly smiled at his vagueness, wondering if my small banter was putting the hobbit to sleep. "Have you forgotten to remember the Shire as well?"

There was no response and it made my stomach drop. "Frodo?" I asked. "You do remember the Shire, don't you?"

"I try to." Frodo said. "It's been a long time since I last saw it."

"It's been even longer still since I saw Erebor, but if the Valar dropped me at the gate right now, I could find my way to the forge, the library, the training grounds and my own bedroom with my eyes closed." I stared at him. "Surely you remember the past." I said. "What I'm talking about didn't even happen that long ago, surely you can remember it, at least something from it."

"Fali, I'm sorry, but the details…they have become a little…faded."

"Faded how?" I asked seriously.

"Fali, please don't ask."

I asked anyway. "You remember the Green Dragon, right? Do you remember what kind of ale you had when I first came to the Shire for your uncle's party? It was your favorite, you always have it."

Frodo was quiet.

"Do you remember the spot where you waited for Gandalf to arrive? What about the party, do you remember who you danced with? At least one of them?" Still no response, just a sad, apologetic look from the hobbit. "How old was Uncle Bilbo turning?" I asked. "Frodo you must know this, you must remember something, this was your life." I though desperately for more questions, simple questions, which he had to know. "Do you remember the sign you put up for your uncle, what did it say? We laughed over it. Do you remember that Sam danced with Rosie? Do you remember what fireworks Gandalf had for us that evening? Do you remember how I burst out from under the fireworks that day?"

"Fali I've told you the details have faded."

"Details?" I asked, spitting out the word in my growing anxiety. "Frodo, asking you to remember who came to the party in what order is a detail…these things…these things were important, we laughed over them , and lived through them. You were proud that Uncle Bilbo had lived to be a hundred and eleven. A hundred and eleven, remember? I don't understand how you could have trouble remembering things that were this important to you." I looked at him seriously. "What do you remember? Do you remember anything after we left the Shire?" I asked. "What about Rivendell? What about the Prancing Pony?"

"I remember all that happening, it's just the smaller things but I cannot remember..." Frodo's eyes lit up as he recalled something, but he fell silent again.

"What?" I asked. "What are you remembering?"

"I remember how Merry and Pippin were talking to those men, and forgot to call me Underhill."

"Not the very nicest thing to recall, but yes, that did happen." I said, forcing a small smile. "Those two, bless them for trying, but they aren't the brightest hobbits. A fine mess they got us into didn't they?" A single breath of laughter escaped my throat. "I suppose we can't be too harsh on them, they dropped everything to follow us on our adventure. Home and comfort…stolen vegetables." Frodo grinned a little at the statement. "At least you have not forgotten how to smile a little." I sighed in relief. "Then we met Aragorn in all that mess, and he took it upon himself to protect our hides. I hope he's still well…"

"I remember falling, being thrown off my balance by some man when I was trying get them out of there." Frodo said, as though he was reliving what had happened in his head. "Everyone had their eyes on me, and the Ring, it just flew up into the air, and I stretched out my hand and it just fell perfectly onto my finger." He paused for a moment. "Everyone sort of let out this collective gasp when I turned invisible, though I almost didn't hear it, I was seeing light and shadows, visions of sorts."

I watched as his hand started to float closer to the Ring. Anger flared up inside me, anger at such a tiny thing. Was this what drove Boromir so mad? I slapped Frodo's hand, none too gently. "Stop that!" I snapped at him, a glare fixed on his face, rather than on the token I knew must be the real culprit. "Of all things to remember…why that?!" I blared. "Do you remember anything beside the Ring?"

"It's a bit difficult to remember anything else when the last few months have been focused on it." Frodo excused.

"I can't believe it." I said. "You can't remember anything besides that awful thing around your neck!"

"It's an effect, nothing else." Frodo argued back. "It will end soon enough."

"Take it off."

"Excuse me? What?" Frodo acted as though I had told a joke he did not entirely understand, which made my temper all the worse.

"Did you forget what I said already?" I argued back. "Take it off your neck for once. Effect or not, you're not eating, or sleeping, and you're having troubling remembering except what that ring wants you to remember, it's starting to become the only thing that's important in your life, and…" I stopped.

"And what?" Frodo challenged.

"And you're beginning to seem more and more like Gollum." I continued, frustration fueling me. "I don't know what Sam and I will do if one day you finally give in and start talking to yourself as though you're two different people."

"Don't be silly about it Fali." Frodo went on. "It won't come to that."

"How can you be sure of that?" I asked him seriously. "You don't know that. Can't you see a few similarities between you and Gollum forming? Your appetite is beginning to fail, and Gollum will only eat raw fish and lizards. You can't sleep most nights and Gollum," I stopped to glance over the pale creature again. "I'm not sure Gollum is sleeping now, or has been most nights to tell you the truth." I shook my head. "I don't trust him."

"Do you not trust me as well?" Frodo asked, and I detected bitterness in his voice.

"Of course I trust you." I retorted.

"Well you don't sound very convincing."

"I trust you, but the Ring is starting to cloud your judgement too much, it's draining you." I looked at him seriously. "I can't help you if you're listening more to Ring than to me and Sam."

A surprisingly cold stare passed between Frodo and I. "You said you would help Gollum once." Frodo said. "I think it's clear you don't intend to keep that promise."

"It was hardly much of a promise to begin with." I huffed. "I understand you've become attached to him, I've accepted that many times…but I don't hold much hope for that creature. I doubt he'll ever be anything more than what he is now." I tried again to make Frodo see my reasoning. "And it was the Ring that did that to him Frodo, does that not make you concerned?"

Frodo, for the first time since he was a child, was silent and have me a cold shoulder. I could have screamed in frustration with how he refused to see the Ring for what it truly was. "Fine." I said, equally as cold. "Don't listen to me."

I buried myself under my cloak with an irritated huff. "But if you think for one moment that I'm going to let you sink so far as to become a second Gollum, you've clearly forgotten I'm your friend. I would hope that fact would still be in your mind."

I stared at Gollum for a long time afterward trying to figure if he was truly asleep again, or if he was plagued with the restlessness that Frodo was. I heard a slight shuffle and my eyes darted over to Sam's slumbering figure. "Sam…" I whispered. Surely the argument between Frodo and I had been loud enough to wake him at some point. There was no reaction from the other hobbit though, which served only to irritate me a little more. "Samwise, if you were listening in and now are trying to pass yourself off as sleeping…" I said warningly.

A snore, decidedly fake, escaped from Sam. I laughed for the first time in days, a real, unforced snicker. "Oh Sam." I sighed, and dismissed his spying. "Good night."

/

"Once upon a time…" And I braced myself at my mother's words for the story that was to unfold. What would it be now? Something from her youth, in the forests of the East? Would it be a tale from the quest to save Erebor? Would it be something that happened to Frerin or Fien or even Gideon before I had even been born?

"Thorin Oakenshield and his company…" Ah yes, the quest for Erebor, just what I had wanted. "…were climbing their way out of a troll cave."

"And Rue had just taken an anklet, and everyone had teased her for it." I quipped.

"Yes, but that's not part of this tale, that happened just before." My mother managed to keep the story on track. "In this tale we had just emerged from the troll cave, when we heard a noise, and we thought it may be danger."

"Orcs and wargs." I filled in the details.

"Yes, those dreadful beasts." Mother nodded. "And they were coming, but-"

"My goodness it sounds like you already know this story." Mother said with a smirk. "Perhaps there is no need to tell it to you now, seeing as you know it by heart. Perhaps you should just fall asleep now…"

"No, no, no." The words came out rushed, my form of an apology. "I'll be quiet, I promise. Please, I love this one." I arranged myself under the blankets, folding my hands overtop the edge of the covers politely. "Go on." I urged her. "Please." I added.

She smiled, affectionate, and it was hard to believe that this woman who had devoted herself so entirely to my siblings and I, and to her fifth child, this kingdom, had once been so freeto have adventures and had wielded a sword every day during the time.

"We were prepared for anything, for orcs, for wargs, for some other monster…but it was not any of these things. Instead a dozen rabbits, the size of dogs bounded out from the thicket and straight to us. I'd never been so surprised…and that is saying something because I'd just seen trolls carrying off ponies the night before." I snickered at the thought.

"Each rabbit was attached to an odd little sleigh that they pulled along together," Mother continued. ", and atop this sleigh was the oddest wizard in all of Middle-Earth. We were all standing, face to face with Radagast, the Brown. He was in a terribly confused state at the time, which made him all the stranger. He had unruly hair, and wild eyes and he said he had something just on the tip of his tongue, which I thought would be some sort of message. But it wasn't. No, far from it. He pulled out a stick insect from his mouth, which seemed to be a bit startled at having to be in there in the first place." Mother smiled. "I thought the Brown wizard was a little crazy, but the wargs finally did come he jumped right back on his sled and he took off with his rabbits, faster than an warg, and far more agile. He was a very brave, kind wizard in the end." I smiled, waiting for my favorite part. "And just before that wizard took off, I wished him well, and he looked down at my face…and this strange, confused, wild wizard saw I was a lady." Mother and I laughed softly over the memory. "Then off he went, fast as the wind."

"Mother could you-?" I began to ask.

"No Fali, it is late, you must sleep." The answer was kind but firm and I received a kiss upon my forehead, and the blanket was pulled up to my chin.

And then it changed. I was no longer a child. I was no longer in bed, or in Erebor. I was back at the same isolated spot where I had led Gollum, and he was facing away from me again, lost in his thoughts. Then my heart began it's endless, loud beating, and the sword in my hands shined. I was torn between killing him and letting him live again. My heart grew louder, deafening. I tried to turn away but my feet were fixed to the place where I stood. I tried to wake myself, but could not focuse on the task with all the noise, making my ears go sore.

Kill him.

Don't kill him.

We need him as a guide still.

Frodo wanted me to help him.

Yet he cannot be helped. He is beyond saving.

I gave in, knowing the only way to end this nightmare was to do as I had done before and strike down. This time Gollum flinched, and looked up at me with wide blue eyes, betrayed.

"You've killed him." I glanced down beside me to find Gollum again.

I nodded, mutely. I had killed Gollum, but Smeagol remained.

"You've killed him!" Gollum or Smeagol (I could not tell) shrieked again, and I glanced down at the pale creature, dead at my feet. It had shriveled itself into a fetal sort of position, a wound in it's back. Gently, I nudged at the creature with the toe of my boot, and it fell to the side, splaying itself on the ground limply.

A chain was around this creature's neck. A chain with the Ring.

Frodo.

I woke up in a cold sweat, still hearing myself scream.

 **Finally updating, life got busy as it always seems too. It's nice to be back though :)**


	41. Chapter 40 (Higher spirits)

After that night things changed. By some fortune the tension that had formed between Frodo and I did not grow any worse. But neither did it lessen any. With circumstances being what they were, and a long journey still ahead of us all, a sort of stability was formed. The argument was not spoken of, mutually put aside. Sam knew better than to ask about it and maintained his story that he had been asleep the whole time, and the falsehood was overlooked so as not to involve him. Gollum said nothing, and no one even asked him if he had been awakened by our not so quiet voices, or had managed to sleep on. The creature when on doing what he was good at, muttering to himself when things became too quiet, guiding us onward, and making Sam and I feel unsettled about the way he whispered and lurked.

I thought of my friend's well-being often. I watched Frodo to see how much he ate and slept, and tried to gauge how he felt. It seemed the argument between us had at least reminded Frodo that he should be eating more than he was. The little good that it had brought made me feel the smallest degree better. And yet there were so many things that remained on my mind…

"Miss Fali?" Sam asked as we walked along, the two of us a few paces behind Frodo, and even farther away from Gollum.

"Yes Sam?" And for a moment I thought that Sam might come forward and ask about the argument.

"Are you feeling well?" He asked.

I blinked in response, surprised by this question. "Yes, of course." I nodded. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't mean to sound as though I'm prying." Sam went on. "But I couldn't help but notice you've been in lower spirits these last few days. Ever since Faramir sent us off again…"

"To be fair, Faramir's capturing of us was wearisome. I'm simply recovering from it still."

"I also can't help but notice you've been ignoring that you're lower spirits." Sam added, and waited in the brief silence that followed for me to answer.

"This journey...it's been more difficult than I expected."

"It's more than it being difficult." Sam said. "You keep trying to see if Frodo remembers to rest, but I've seen how you wake up in the middle of the night. You shift around in your sleep a lot. I think you've started having nightmares, and quite a few of them."

"Regardless, there's not much that can be done about what my dreams contain."

"So you have been having trouble sleeping." Sam sighed.

"There's not much you can do about it either Sam, please don't let what's happening to Frodo and I have a great effect on you."

"Fine." He nodded. "But you'll have to promise me you'll be listening to your own advice and not go wearing yourself out when there's not much we can do about Frodo's matters."

I stared at him for a moment. "You wanted me to say those words, just so you could repeat them back to me." Sam shrugged in reply. "And I thought Merry and Pippin were the ones who played tricks." I smirked. "Clever work, Samwise."

"You haven't promised anything yet." Sam reminded me. "Go on."

"Too clever…" I muttered to myself. "I'll remember to take care of myself." I promised him. "I'm sorry for worrying you about it. Frodo's actions…his forgetfulness at times…it's troubling. It can make me forget other important things, and it bothers me when I try to sleep." I sighed. "But we must be optimistic."

"How you manage to keep on being optimistic is unbelievable." Sam said.

"It's a natural talent." I replied, though in the wilted landscape we were walking through, humor seemed to be out of our grasp. "Remember what Frodo once said? 'One foot in front of the other'? We must think of finishing this journey like that. With every step we are closer to finishing what we started. With every passing second we are one second closer to returning home."

"That's a happy thought." He said.

/

I dreamt that night of her. My mother, Rue, the nymph under the mountain. It was not the recreation of a memory, but something that never existed, only played out in my mind. I stood before her as I was, exactly how I looked when I had fallen asleep. She stood as I had last seen her, when we had departed from Rivendell.

"Fali." She looked me over. "My poor girl, you look so tired."

"You look so real." I replied.

"You've done so well." She smiled, and touched my cheek in a comforting fashion. "Frodo and Sam are both alive, and you've guided them well. You've kept going through all your challenges."

"You always said I was stubborn." I replied. "Father said I got that from you."

"Your father could be pretty stubborn when he wanted to be too." Mother added. "It's in the blood of the line of Durin, if you ask me."

"Mother?"

"Yes, Fali?"

"Do you remember when I was young and-?"

"Very fondly." My mother interrupted me. "Those were some of my favorite years, when all of you were young." She smirked to herself. "When I was younger myself."

"I wanted to be like you." I finished.

"Oh yes, I knew you wanted to live as I lived."

"How did you live through what you saw?" I asked.

"I had help." She answered. "Your father, your family, the kingdom that needed to be rebuilt."

"All those things are so far away from me." I said. "Even Frodo feels far away. It feels as though Sam and I are losing him."

"You will find him again." She smiled. "One day this will end, and somehow, though you will never know how, what happened to you will become stories that you will tell your own children. And when their faces light up you'll forget how frightened you were when you were fighting."

"I don't think I would want my children to be as adventurous as I was."

"Was?"

"All I want now is to go home, and return to all of you. I want to see all of you, sleep well for a night."

"There are different kinds of adventures." Mother replied. "Have you forgotten all the times we went to the Shire? Yes, it has no fire breathing dragons, thank Mahal for that, but it was the people who were waiting for us there that made going there an adventure." She stroked my cheek again. "And what about you and your brothers? Do you think it was easy to raise you? To teach you right and keep you happy and well? You were all challenging in different ways, and seeing you grow up and become who you were was one of the most rewarding adventures your father and I ever had."

"It didn't sound very thrilling when compared to Smaug and the burning of Laketown. Or Mirkwood where you met Aunt Tauriel. Or Rivendell…"

"Yes, far off places were something you wanted nearly all your life." Mother said. "Oh, my sweet girl, I knew from the moment you had a sword in your hand, just a little wooden blade, no more than a toy, that it would be replaced with a true weapon in time, and soon you would be sparing. My only daughter…you did your best to be a lady and warrior both."

"I'm sorry I was never very good at being a lady." I sighed. "Too many rules, too many manners…"

"Too many dwarves teaching you less than appropriate etiquette." Mother spoke of all my uncles. "Do not worry, at your age I wasn't much of a lady either."

"Given how you first met the company of Thorin Oakenshield, that can almost be taken literally." I snickered softly.

My mother laughed in return. "I miss you." I said. "I wish you...this whole meeting…was real." I shook my head. "I can't remember what I even wanted to have an adventure for anymore."

"I did not know why I wanted to join in a quest either, but I did so." Mother comforted me. "And with every day it became clear to me why I choose to travel to far off places, and fight in great battles." She looked at me seriously. "Not for thrills Fali, nor to have my name spoken of in legends, or to gain fortune. I did great things, dangerous things, because of people."

"Like Father?" I asked. "And Great-uncle Thorin?"

"Yes." She nodded. "The people I knew and loved. The people who I wanted to protect. And the people I had never met but wanted to do right for. If adventures were just for displaying bravery and skill, and running from one daring escape to the next they would have no purpose. We do impossible things, make great journeys, for those we care about."

"Frodo and Sam." I smiled. "And Gideon, and Boromir…Gimli, Aragorn and everyone else."

"So long as there are people you have left to fight for, to protect and guide, you have an adventure on your hands."

"Thank you." I smiled, happy to have reached this conclusion on my own, as it was my own dream, and yet disappointed, for hearing those words from my mother in the flesh would have been welcome and heartwarming.

I was reminded of previous dreams of this nature where I had seen Boromir, and recalled that I could not bring forth anything I didn't know already. "Mother?" I asked. "Have you said this to me before?"

"Yes, many times."

"I can't remember them."

"You probably wouldn't, you only half listened to me." She replied. "My words seemed to go in one of your ears, sail straight through your head and then shoot out the other. You were young, you wanted to be young and indestructible while you could be."

"I'm sorry I didn't pay attention. It must have been wearisome to keep telling me something over and over and not have it stick in my head."

"But I did keep telling you, with hopes that one day it would." She replied. "I only wish you may have realised my words sooner."

"Before I left." I nodded.

"Yes." Mother nodded, soberly.

"I'll be home soon." I promised. "I'll tell you that I did remember…the real you." I kissed my Mother's cheek. My dream dissipated and I was rewarded with a deep, satisfying slumber, with no dream of Gollum to interrupt it.

"You treacherous little thief!" I was startled awake and for a bleary moment as I was still waking I thought I had spoke too soon. No, I thought. Something is different. I can't hear my heart beating any louder, and Gollum has always been silent in this dream before.

Gollum…where was he? Now fully awake I realised that I was still on my bedroll. I could hear Gollum calling out for Frodo.

"Leave him alone Sam!" I turned where I sat, and saw everyone around the edge of a pond, Gollum cowering by the water's edge, seeming to sink lower and lower to the ground, and Frodo had stepped in between him and Sam, who looked furious. I regretted sleeping so soundly.

"I heard him say it himself! He means to murder us!"

At the mention of murder I jumped up, throwing my shoulders back. Yes, I thought. This stance is familiar to me. No more worrying, no more wasting time arguing, no more letting Frodo slip away. I stormed over to them.

"Never! Smeagol wouldn't hurt a fly!" Words I didn't believe in the slightest." He's a hobbit, a fat hobbit who hates Smeagol. He's making up nasty lies!"

Sam did not take kindly to those words and for the first time in his life threatened to smash in someone's head. Had it not been Gollum's I would have been more shocked, but I could feel my temper building against the creature.

I placed my hand on the hilt of my blade threateningly and stormed over. "What have you done now?!" I demanded. I pulled out my sword and pointed it at him threateningly.

"Fali, don't!" Frodo reprimanded me.

"Do not interfere Frodo." I said, keeping my voice even. "You yourself have pointed your blade at others, this creature included."

Gollum tried to hide behind Frodo like a scared dog, and I pushed Frodo a few paces backward, keeping them separated. "Do not touch him." I practically snarled. "Wouldn't hurt a fly, would you?" I began to corner him against the edge of the pond. "I have seen what you do. Or have you forgotten how I watch you tear groudlings apart when you followed me on a hunt?" I looked down at him, as he cowered.

"Calling me a liar….he's the one telling lies!" Sam snapped.

"Please!" Frodo shouted at us. "If we scare him off we're lost!"

"I don't care! I can't do it Mister Frodo!" Sam burst.

"Neither can I." I added, my tone still hard and even. "I've put up with him for as long as I could, but he's not even worth all the struggle now." I looked back at Frodo. "There may have been a time when we needed him to guide us, but we can't have him with us anymore." Frodo looked as though he didn't believe me. "We can't keep him any longer Frodo. We can make it there without him, I promise. We don't need him. He's become unstable, unpredictable. The only reason he's stayed with us so long is out of pity."

"I'm not sending him away." Frodo was firm.

"How can you not see it Mister Frodo?" Sam asked. "He's a villain."

"We can't finish this by ourselves. We still need a guide." He looked at us hopefully. "I need the two of you on my side."

"We are on your side, Mister Frodo."

"Then you must trust me." Frodo said, and held out an open palm for Gollum, who rushed forward to grasp his hand. Frodo glanced over to me, and with a sigh, I placed my sword back at my belt.

I walked ahead of Frodo, spinning around to face him and continuing my steps backward. "I am on your side Frodo, you must believe me. You know I have been your friend since you were a very young child." I glanced at Gollum harshly. "So you must believe me when I saw it is because I am on your side that I want us to rid ourselves of Gollum now."

"We need a guide. We know longer know the way to Mordor on our own."

"It cannot be too difficult, we still have a map with us, we can manage."

"What does it know? Nothing." Gollum said to me.

"I would be quiet if I were you." I snapped. "I happen to know a great deal more than you think." I turned my attention back to Frodo. "I know that you pity him, that you want to help him, and that somehow this journey will make him better, but it's time we looked past all our pity. Gollum is dangerous. I believe he wouldn't hurt a fly when he is cowering, but when he is his usual sneaking self I believe he could do anything to harm us. I don't trust him, and I don't believe you should either."

"If I don't send him away, what will you do?" Frodo asked. "Will you leave?"

"No." I replied firmly. "I'm not going anywhere. I may not care about him, but I do care about you and Sam, and so whether you listen to me or not, I'll be staying here with you. Even if things only get worse from now on."

Which I heavily suspected they would.

Frodo seemed to judge my words, but looked apologetic as he answered "He stays."

I frowned, but kept my back straight and head high. "Very well then." I nodded. "Just know that I'll be watching you." I narrowed my eyes and glared at Gollum. "Very closely."

I faced forward again, letting myself fall back until I was walking beside Sam. "Am I in higher spirits again Sam?" I asked.

"You are." He nodded. "Thank goodness for that."

"Good." I nodded. "Now try your best to keep up. I don't want Frodo to get very far away from us with that creature."

If I had not known any better, I may have sworn Gollum was smirking back at Sam and I.


	42. Chapter 41 (The sun)

"I am untouchable, yet present, unseen yet witnessed, and if not held will break. What am I?" Frerin asked, and the rest of us furrowed our brows, trying to decipher the riddle. Frerin had a subtly smug look on his face, knowing he was testing our skills with logic.

"Untouchable, unseen, but still held…" Vesper muttered to herself, a pair of fingertips pressed to one of her temples.

"There is an answer, right?" Fali asked.

"Of course there's an answer." Frerin nodded. "Just think about it."

"I am." Fali huffed.

"Then think harder."

Atticus looked over to Frerin seriously. "You're sure there is an answer for this one, right?"

"Yes Atticus, just think. It will come to one of you."

"Who's idea was it to have a game of riddles anyway?" Kien asked, also having bad luck.

"Gideon's, I believe." Tauris pointed it out.

I myself was having trouble with Frerin's riddle. "Is it a pause?"

"A what?" Frerin asked.

"You know a pause, as in silence, when two people stop talking for a moment it's real but not tangible and if you start speaking again it's broken."

"Very good…" Frerin smiled, to which I began to grin. "…but not what I was thinking of. Good logic though."

"I was sure you had it." Atticus said.

"I've got it!" Orian practically leapt up from his sitting place on a large, half buried stone. His remark was so loud it startled a small swarm of birds. "It's an oath, isn't it?"

"Correct." Frerin said, to which the rest of us groaned.

"You're the only one who's the master of this game, cousin." Vesper sighed.

"Fien's turn." Frerin turned toward the second eldest of us.

"Can we not just pass it on to Kien?" Fien asked. "I'm no good at coming up with decent riddles."

"Oh come on Fien, there must be some smarts in your head, besides iron work and furnace ashes." Kien teased lightly.

"Fine." Fien heaved a sigh above our snickering. After a moment of thought he said "If there is not enough of me, you burn, and if there is too much you still-"

"The cold." All of us answered in unison.

"How did you all know so quickly?" Fien said. "That one was actually clever."

"Tauris asked that one the last time we had a game of riddles." Kien informed him.

"I should have known it was familiar…" Fien muttered.

"Imitation is flattery, or so they say." Tauris shrugged. "Would you like to try again, or would you rather pass it on?"

"Pass." He immediately said. "Does anyone else have one?"

"I do!" Fali raised her hand.

"Then let's hear it." I said.

"You need me to live. Find yourself too far away and you will die. Touch me and you will die. What am I?"

"A woman scorned." Kien joked to Fien.

"It is not!" Fali smacked our cousin on his shoulder.

"Don't worry Kien, I was about to suggest the same thing." Vesper said.

"Vesper!"

"Well the end of the riddle certainly seemed to suggest that answer." Vesper replied.

"That's what I was thinking too." Orian said.

"It is not a scorned woman!" Fali snapped.

"We understand, Fali." Frerin said, and his words were followed by a silence in which we tried to think of the correct answer.

"Is it water?" Tauris asked. "It makes sense."

"Water won't kill you when you just touch it." Fali smiled. "Try again."

"Just to be sure, the woman scorned answer…are you sure-?"

"If one more of you brings up that answer…" Fali threatened.

There were a few more half-made attempts as to an answer, but none of which were correct.

"Do you all give up?" Fali asked.

Vesper had her eyes closed in concentration, and I screwed up my own eyelids. "Is it one of us?" Vesper asked.

"It may seem like that, but no, not in this case." Fali said.

"It's nice to think you need us close by to go on living." I said. Our friend, with her increased training for leadership of the south after her mother, had become a bit more distant, distracted. But it was moments like these, when we were peacefully together, that Vesper felt closer, and she was most like her outgoing father.

Vesper looked to me. "You all make good company." She said. "One man can't always stand alone."

"Wonderful, she still needs us, even when she's heir to an entire region." Fien said. "We're not forgotten after all." He joked, to which Vesper let out a light chuff of laughter.

"What do you think it is Gideon?" Fali asked. "You haven't suggested anything yet."

My eyes closed again, and I focused my mind as well as I could. Not to far away…not to near…never to be touched…needed for life. My eyes opened to the huge sky above.

/

"The sun." I said, my eyelids heavy.

"The what?" Gimli asked.

To have the lovely images of my friends, brothers and Fali, in the foothills of Erebor dissolve so rapidly into Gimli's face was jolting. I let out a surprised yelp.

"We came in here last night, finding you dead asleep." He smirked. "Not so familiar with ale, are you?"

"Have no worries, young man." Eomer passed by our doorway. "The dwarf had to be carried in here after the festivities."

"No one can keep their mouths shut…" Gimli grumbled.

I smirked. "I imagine our elven friend had very little trouble navigating his way through the halls last night."

"Where's Aragorn?"

"Out in the training grounds." Gimli said. "We could join him." He made to grab his axe, and I got up very quickly. Though it seemed a night's rest had restored Gimli to his senses, he still remained a very diligent instructor.

"No." I said, shaking my head. "There's no need. Aragorn is probably waiting for me now. It's been so long since he taught me anything."

"We wouldn't be bothering anyone." Gimli pressed.

"I should be going now." I said, searching for my sword. I practically leapt over the cot I had slept in to grab it from the other side. "I'll be off now." I bolted for the door. "I shouldn't keep him waiting."

"I thought you enjoyed the axe training."

"I did…I do…it's fine." I stumbled over my tongue.

"Then why-?" Gimli began to ask.

"Aragorn and I haven't had the chance to train in a long time."

"But-"

"Good bye Gimli." I said quickly and then I began to run down the corridor trying to find my way. The stone floor felt very cold this morning.

"Gideon." Eowyn spotted me in my mad dash away from Gimli and his axe training.

"Miss Eowyn." I nodded, keeping up my search.

"Where are you going?"

"Training grounds." I said. "Aragorn's there."

"You're going in the wrong direction if that's the case." Eowyn said, kindly pointing me in the correct direction, which happened to be the opposite way down the halls.

"Thank you." I changed directions.

"Where are your boots?" She raised an eyebrow.

I glanced down to find my feet bare. Well, t explained why the floors had been so oddly cold this morning. "I'm was running away from Gimli, before he had the chance to start training me the axe again."

I made to change directions again in order to fetch the boots. "No, allow me." Eowyn said. "I'll bring them to you in a moment."

"I think you've done enough for me over the last few days." I said. "Speaking of which…" I cleared my throat. "Last night when you were kind enough to guide me to my chamber and all…I was in quite the sorry state. I didn't mean to be so inconvenient or mistake you for my sister again."

Eowyn smiled at me, amused. "Enough. Off you go, before Gimli comes after you with an axe in hand."

I resolved to introduce Eowyn and Fali as soon as we were all reunited. They would get along like long lost siblings.

The training grounds, empty but for Aragorn's figure at the far end, were soon found. "Aragorn!" I called to him, and readied my sword.

"Master Gideon." He turned, a little surprised at my sudden appearance. His gaze dropped to my bare feet, and he seemed confused. Further inspection of my person revealed that my clothes were all out of sorts from having been slept in.

"Eowyn will be bringing my boots along soon." I said, smoothing out my tunic quickly. "I was hoping that we could train again. It's been a long time since I've practised with you."

"You are starting to sound eager." He smiled. He gazed away for a moment, seeming to complete a moment of reflection that I had unknowingly interrupted. "Come." He motioned me over. "Stand ready."

I stood before him, setting my feet apart in the earth, my blade held in front of me, across my chest. "Have you remembered what I've taught you?" Aragorn asked.

"I believe so." I nodded. Aragorn examined my stance, judged it as correct, and took up a stance of his own. "Fine then, you may begin."

I glanced over him for any place he had left open for me to strike. A knee slightly out of place or a corner of his torso left unguarded specifically for me to aim at. He never failed to point out what he had intentionally put in front of me if I missed it, or if I had taken too long to notice. Today he had left the space between two of his ribs open.

I sprung forward, swinging strong and on point, already knowing that he would block the attack, but quickly drawing back from his defense and striking again. Aragorn moved to the side a degree and changed his position, removing my previous target. I sighed internally, and quickly examined his stance again. The target had lowered to his left leg, near the knee. I aimed lower, but he threw me off, and just like that his leg was well guarded again, no second chance to try and get a strike in.

"I appreciate the realism…" I said, "but I still think a second chance is in order."

"Try again." He prompted me, which was his way of saying that he had left another target for me. I tried to find whatever spot was left open, but a few more seconds passed and then he struck back against me, with a force strong enough to force me backward.

"It was the ribs again." He informed me. I gave him a hard look that displayed just how unfair I thought it was that he had resorted back to the previous target. Normally he changed targets without repeating, and every time he pulled tricks like this it left me feeling cheated.

I was now faced with the challenge of winning back the advantage I had with making the first move. Aragorn refused to make it easy, one second trying to force me backward even farther, and the next attempting to throw the blade from my hand. He raised his sword high, and I flinched for a second under the oncoming metal. I raised my sword in defense, catching the blade, and holding it in a block for a moment where the two swords shook against one another as we both tried to throw the other off.

Thankfully, this was when I was able to gain some more balance, escaping the block unharmed and meeting the following strike in time. Our feet moved quickly, and I moved when he did, making sure that my sides were not left exposed as we traveled around the training grounds. Perhaps it was my dream from the night, but I felt as though my friends were right behind me watching, anxiously awaiting their own turn to spar in front of an audience.

I sighed internally. Finally I had grown enough in skill to match my friends and they wouldn't be able to see it for…weeks? Months? The very first thing I was going to do when I returned was go straight to my brothers and ask them if they had the time for sparring. They'd be surprised, as I had never been the one to suggest fighting in the past. Or perhaps I'd challenge Fali, and show her that she had no need to worry over me, and that I had finally grown into the potential our parents had spoken of in regards to me and my future.

The fight continued with Aragorn shifting the targets he left open for me frequently. I felt I was gaining on him at last, and finally caught him moving his shoulder, shifting to leave his side open, and finally caught him, striking against his side and stopping just short of actually injuring him. The one time I had caught his hand was enough.

"Well done." Aragorn nodded down at my sword. "I'm glad to see you do remember."

"If only someone had seen that." I said. "I would have given up all of my things as a child to have won like that in front of my siblings. I may have hated fighting, but I still had dreams of tossing Fali into the sand just once, or being able to rub a victory just a little into Fien's face."

"Hopefully you'll be able to do such things when you return home." Eowyn approached us. She had been silently waiting for the duel to finish at the far end of the grounds, my boots in hand. "It was a marvelous fight to watch." She smirked. "Sibling rivalry was just as common between my brother and I."

"Your skill is growing. We should continue your training, daily, if such a thing can be hoped for." Aragorn said as I tied up my laces.

"Why? Are we departing soon?" I asked.

Eowyn frowned at this news and her eyes looked over to Aragorn, and once again I saw an affection that she held for him, plainly in her gaze. Love in any form is difficult to hide. My mother had spoke of love as a lightening strike, hitting very fast and burning everything up. I could feel something akin to an ache in my chest when I thought of how hapless Eowyn had been to grow affection for someone who already held it for another. Classic tales always spoke of love being blind…clearly it was true. "You really do not mean to leave us?" She asked. "So soon?"

"No, we shall stay by the side of Theoden." Aragorn promised. "But I feel this measure of peace won't last as long as we wish. The enemy plots. It may be that we are fighting again, and soon." He turned to me. "Eat, Gideon, you must be famished. We may train later today. Seek me out when you can."

He left, probably to the council of Theoden or to find Gandalf, hoping to prepare for whatever was to happen next.

"He must make a good instructor." Eowyn said.

"He does." I nodded. "I'm grateful for the faith he has in me." I followed her gaze at my friend, until he disappeared from view. What to do about this? Aragorn must suspect it, and he had always been careful to not indulge her. But still her fondness for him grew. Surely he would speak with her at some point. But when? When she made some sort of confession?

I recalled having similar conversations with young ladies I had kissed in the back of the forge, and I realised I held no serious affection for them. I had tried to be kind. Some were teary, others understanding and some quite angry. I had hated the whole conversation and myself at those times. I despised hurting people.

No wonder Aragorn had yet to say anything. Eowyn had been a dear friend to us all, and a great leader to her people. She didn't deserve to fall victim to blind affection.

"Gideon?" I shook my head of it's musings at her voice. She laughed at me, lightly. "Come, I'll have you fed. Your mind is becoming light from hunger by the look of it."

I chuckled softly. "Thank you."

"What occupies your mind?" Eowyn asked. "Concern for what happens to us next? Your sister again?"

"No, not this time." I replied.

"A lady back home?" She grinned, amused.

"No, there is none. Only family and friends, though I must say I love them too." I thought to gently bring up Aragorn and Arwen, awaiting his return. "I am not like Aragorn. I only saw Arwen a few times, and rarely spoke with her, but I saw a conversation between them once. She has such faith in him, such remarkable love." I prayed my words would spark something in Eowyn, and make her come the realisation that Aragorn was already devoted to Arwen. Perhaps she would then let go of her fondness for him.

But I was just as hapless with my words as Eowyn was with her love. Eowyn frowned, eyebrows knitting closer together. "Yes. He is fortunate." She said shortly. I had only made her upset, which brought up the old feelings of breaking hearts and having to hurt people.

"Eowyn…" I said, gently. What was I to say next? I had improved much in terms of physical confrontations but conflicts with words still rendered my tongue a slab of metal. "Eowyn…I can't help but notice that…"

She looked at me, and I wished she hadn't. Her face said everything of how she felt. Disappointed, foolish, even a little angry at herself. I swallowed, averted my eyes, and finished, in a rush of words as usual "I can't help but notice that you seem to be quite fond of him." Somehow not using Aragorn's name made saying the words more bearable. "But…"

"I am aware." Eowyn interrupted me. "But he is his own man, he can choose who he…"

"He has chosen." I said, softly. "He chose before we even began this journey."

Eowyn's eyes flashed with anger, directed at me. "How can you speak for him? You have said so yourself, you have no one waiting for you back home. You have no idea of what love is like."

"You may not know all in the subject either." I said, trying to remain gentle in tone. "And likewise, you cannot speak for Aragorn." I went on. "Eowyn one day he will come to you and on that day he will tell you news you may not want to hear. "

Eowyn gave me a look that could have turned me to stone. She was holding onto the slightest of hopes in her mind, but in truth there was nothing for her to grasp. No doubt it made her feel as though she had been ignorant the whole time. Suddenly she quickened her pace and was flying off.

"Eowyn wait, please!" I tried to chase after her. I had said something wrong, I should have not spoken at all, I should have just let Aragorn speak to her when the time came and brought comforting words after it had happened instead.

"Until later, Master Gideon." She gave a curt reply, which told me I was no longer welcome to walk beside her, and that I would be finding my morning meal on my own. I sighed. She could have a hot temper too, like Fali, and I had stumbled on it.

"Perhaps it wasn't the sun, but a scorned woman after all." I muttered as I rubbed my temples.


	43. Chapter 42 (Things get better and worse)

I felt as though I had done the wrong thing, though in many ways what I had told Eowyn had to be said sooner or later. And I was quite sure saying them any later than I did would not have made a bit of difference in her reaction. So perhaps I had done the right after all…hadn't I? For the hundredth time that day I groaned to myself. Kien, my impish half-elven cousin, was the only person I knew who could speak with a lady and leave the conversation, whatever had been said between them, good or bad, and seem to have not hurt any feelings. He had a charm many envied.

The only person who could really compete with that silver tongue was his brother, my other cousin, Tauris, who was so polite and so mannered with his words that one had to take ill news from him as a frank reality. I recalled vividly the day Tauris had broken a plate from being reckless at the young age of what humans considered eight. He had apologized so diplomatically to my aunt he escaped justice, and left those of us who had witnessed his fault open mouthed in wonder.

But diplomacy and charm, though I had some, were not enough in my person to save me from being too frank with Eowyn. If Fali had been there, I could only imagine how she would have stamped her foot, and said something along the lines of 'Look what you've done now, Gideon'., finishing it all off with a glare before racing after Eowyn to comfort her a little.

But I was not Fali, and instead I went back to find Gimli, and asked…deliberately _asked_ …to have lessons with him. As I expected, the axe was heavy, the techniques straining, and Gimli's stories of Gloin relentless. But I felt I deserved it all, down to the last critisim of my practise from him.

"Feet set farther apart."

It was done.

"Keep your head up."

I raised my head again.

"Don't look as though your arms are killing you."

"That is a little harder for me to do." I admitted, between teeth gritted in strain.

"You should be striking fear into the enemy." Gimli encouraged me. "As it is you look as though you may faint."

"Gimli…"

"Feet closer together."

"But you just said to keep them farther apart."

"No I didn't."

"Yes, you-"

He shot me a look. "I am the instructor here, aren't I, lad?"

I shuffled my feet closer together.

Hours later, I was released by him. I was eating a small meal in the kitchens when Eowyn walked by, and I hoped the sight of me, exhausted and hardly able to lift my goblet to my lips because me arms were so numb, may soften her a bit. But she looked away as soon as she noticed I was there. Mahal curse my tongue.

No sooner had Eowyn retreated from the kitchen Merry and Pippin entered it. Once they saw me eating, they took it upon themselves to join me, though they hardly needed an invitation to eat. Merry chatted on about their run-in with the walking trees, the Ents, as they were called. Pippin seemed…quiet. The normally outgoing and lively hobbit was now more reserved and appeared to be distracted.

At one point Pippin seemed to fall into a reverie, I had to repeat his name several times before he snapped out of it.

"Pippin…Pippin…Mister Took…Pippin!" I touched his shoulder and he flinched, startling himself back into reality.

"Yes?" He gazed over at me.

"Is something the matter?" I asked. I had never been as close to Merry and Pippin as Fali had been, but I still felt a sort of responsibility over them in her absence. It only felt right to keep an eye on them until we all met again.

"It's nothing." Was his empty response. I sighed. I couldn't talk to anyone today it seemed.

My own silence was taken for an upset stomach, according to Merry.

It was comforting in a strange way, to have ones misfortune taken only for a simple malady.

I tried to seek out Eowyn again, wanting to explain myself more clearly, but she stayed hidden from me. I searched everywhere, the halls, the training grounds ( I had hoped to find her there, with wishes that a good spar would help her to spend her emotions as it usually did with Fali, but this was also unsuccessful), even the courtyards. But it was clear by midafternoon that she had sought out a private corner of her home.

Just when it seemed I had made it through one trouble, I found it replaced by another.

My fingers crossed over the otter shaped pendant from the lady Galadriel. My emblem since birth. Good fortune. Today the symbol was ironic, and despite myself, the smallest of smiles was on my face when I thought about it.

/

I tossed in my sleep during the night. Memories of women I had upset before. Fali, Vesper, Eowyn now. My mother also ventured into my memories, and I relived bits of my childhood where her notorious temper flared up at me for my wrongdoing. She had rarely lost control of that fire she had in here and directed it at her children, but on occasion we had done things (Fien getting intoxicating for the first time, and the second, Fali missing an entire counsel she had promised to sit through with her to go hunting, and on my own part, feigning an illness to miss lessons one day) where she simply couldn't hold it back. I'm proud to say that apart from Frerin, who was too perfect to be snapped at, I received her chastisements the fewest amount of times.

I was awoken when someone returned to the chamber where we all slept. When my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the room, I discerned that it was Aragorn. "What are you doing?" I asked, my voice still thick with sleep.

"I am going to visit our elven friend." I turned over to glance at Legolas's bed, empty. The elf, as well as Master Gandalf, had a habit of sleeping with his eyes open, giving him the illusion of constantly being awake. The first few nights of the quest it had unsettled Fali and I, but by now I had grown used to it.

"Where have you come from then?" I questioned further.

"Many of us cannot sleep tonight." Aragorn answered. "There is something stirring out there."

"Spies?" I asked. "Scouts?"

"Do not worry yourself." He calmed me. "If the enemy is to move, we will know." He took up his cloak and as he exited finished his answer with "The lady Eowyn cannot sleep either, her dreams interrupt her."

Eowyn. So she was having as much trouble as I was now. The new common ground gave me a bit of hope. "Where is she now?" I asked, getting up from my bed quietly and following Aragorn through the doors.

"Trying to rest, in the Hall." Aragorn said. "You intend to speak with her now? At this hour?"

"It's important." I replied. "I must explain myself."

Aragorn looked at me curiously, but did not press for more details in the matter. Whatever he thought it could be, he seemed to be sure I could handle it on my own, and understood it was between Eowyn and I.

"Good night, Master Gideon." Aragorn said in parting before we went down opposite halls. I nodded, and entered the Hall, where only a handful of braziers were lit, giving it a cavern like appearance. For a moment I could believe the walls were all stone, not wood, as thought it were a chamber back home in the mountain. The Hall was quite empty, but as Aragorn had said, there was a day-bed, where Eowyn had chosen to sleep in the night. It looked as though someone had thrown a blanket over her recently. Aragorn, I realised, had been the doer of the kind gesture. I pondered if I was very welcome in Eowyn's company yet.

All the same, I approached, to find her sleeping, her eyelids fluttering. Whatever she could be thinking of, it was keeping her sleep light. I sat at the edge of the day-bed, unsure of how to wake her, or if I should. I placed a hand on her shoulder, which did not immediately wake her, but after a few short moments of me sitting there like that, her eyes opened, blinking away a dream, and she looked up to me in the briefest of confusion. "Theodred?"

I was now in her place, for all those times her appearance had reminded her of Fali, when my mind was dulled by sleep or other circumstances. "No Eowyn." I said, gently as I could. "It's me, Gideon."

She recognized me then. "My apologies." She cleared the matter quickly.

I did not resemble her cousin in any way, from the glimpse I had gotten of his body being laid to rest, but the room was dim, and her dreams had not left her. 'You've no need to apologize for that." I dismissed it myself. "I've made a similar mistake."

She smiled, weakly, and a silence fell between us. I broke it, awkwardly, unable to do it any other way. "Eowyn I did not mean to upset you today."

"He came in here with this," She touched the edge of the blanket. ", and woke me by accident. I was dreaming of being swallowed up by water."

"That was very kind of him." I nodded.

"It would be easier if he were less kind." Eowyn said.

"It sounds like you have other, more dire, troubles." I said. "Being swallowed by water?"

"I couldn't move." She said. "I told Aragorn as well. He said I should rest while I could, while we still had the time."

"It sounds as though you feel as if the world is ready to swallow you up." I said, hand still on her shoulder. "You've taken a lot of responsibility, you're not used to so much being on your shoulders."

"I feel as though there's nothing I can really do." Eowyn said. "The night of the battle I was set on fighting alongside my uncle. But I was in the caves with the women that night instead."

"You were just as needed there." I reminded her.

"I could hear everything that night. The army approaching, and the thunder, all the fighting, that terrible explosion. I couldn't see what was happening, it was like being in a cage. I thought the world was falling apart, being blown to pieces by fire and metal."

"It felt like the same thing out there."

"It would have been better if I could have least seen it." Eowyn said. "Knowing would have been so much better than waiting, and hoping the doorway didn't get knocked off it's hinges."

It sounds as if you were waiting to be swallowed up and unable to move away, just like your dream, I thought. I patted her shoulder gently, like my mother used to do to me.

"It was so dim," Eowyn went on. ", and it only grew darker as our torches burned out their fuel and the candles melted down. It was hot with so many people, and though everyone tried to be quiet you couldn't escape noise. Crying, breathing, whispers between everyone. It was all dizzying. I just wanted to burst out of the ground and do something besides sit there."

"It sounds like the forge back home." I said, kindly, finding I could be optimistic for Eowyn's sake. "Especially in the summer. It gets swelteringly hot, and your clothes will just stick to you, and the air is too heavy to breath and there's constant noise." I shook my head a little. "I never knew why my brother, Fien, loved it there so much. He was the most dwarvish out of us I think. It was probably in his blood."

"When did you last see your brother?"

"A long time ago, by now." I answered. "Not that I had seen much of him when I was back home. He's married now, and they have a son, still a baby as far as human ages go. I can't blame him for having his hands full. " I glanced around us. "When I entered this room, it felt like I was back in the caverns back home." My gaze returned to Eowyn. "You shouldn't be sleeping here, it won't do you any good. It will only remind you of that long night in the caves. It's probably what is fueling your nightmares." I held out a hand and stood up. "Come, we can find you a nicer place to rest, some place where you can see the sky, with any luck."

She touched the edge of the blanket Aragorn had laid across her again, and caught me looking. "Much like Theodred, I cannot stay mad at you when you're being so good hearted."

"It would be rather unfair to go on disliking me." I joked, lightly.

She sat up, and we were about to go off to find better sleeping quarters for her when there was a noise so sudden it caused us both to jolt. This was followed by yells, which echoed down the halls in a ghostly way. "What is happening?" Eowyn was now at her feet.

"It sounds like it's coming from our chambers." I took off running, with Eowyn quickly following at my heels. "It sounds like their voices."

It sounded as though one of the Fellowship was in pain. And there was another, strange sound, like a storm was rising. There was a great wind, which seemed to be beating against the outside walls, and whipping around from within the building. The closer I got back to the chamber the more I could tell the voices apart. Gandalf, trying to regain some control over whatever was happening in the room, Merry, who sounded concerned, but not in pain, and a gasping sound, which was from the person who was currently in agony.

"I think it may be Pippin." I shouted back at Eowyn. "Otherwise Merry wouldn't be so concerned."

I shoved my shoulder against the door, but it did not give way. "I can't open it!" I shoved against the door again. "Eowyn, help me!" The lady threw herself against the door with just as much force as I had, slamming into it. "Harder." I tried again. "Together." And we threw ourselves to the door in unison. It bent inward from our combined force, but it refused to open.

"What is happening inside?" Aragorn demanded, he and Legolas finally arriving, also in a rush.

"It won't open." I replied.

"Something's not right." Eowyn said. "It's not supposed to be this heavy."

"It must be Pippin." I added, for the benefit of the others. "Once more Eowyn. Join us." I nodded back at Aragorn and Legolas. The four of us pushed against the door, which strained, and finally broke open, causing us all to stumble inside.

Pippin looked to be in the throes of a fit, like in stories I had read of men who went mad. In his hands he grasped a dark orb, which was shaking as though it were alive in some way. The force of the shaking had brought the hobbit to the ground, and yet the orb remained in his hands, though it was causing him such grief. Aragorn pushed past me and Eowyn without ceremony and grabbed the orb from Pippin's hands. The moment the orb was out of his hold, Pippin collapsed. Merry and Eowyn hurried to his side, but he remained in a trance, eyes unblinking, still in shock.

The orb then began to have the same effect on Aragorn, and in the mess of people waking, tending to Pippin and the wind still howling in every corner I made to take it from him. The ranger and heir wouldn't let me, giving out a sharp "Stand back, Gideon." I obeyed the command, with the help of Gimli holding me back by my elbow. Legolas was gripping Aragorn by his shoulders, and finally he managed to let go of the orb, which went black, and rolled harmlessly (or what I thought was harmlessly) over the floor. Gandalf, who knew better than I, threw a cloak over the orb as though it were a burning coal that had rolled out of the hearth.

I wretched my elbow out Gimli's hold. "What were you thinking?" I demanded of Aragorn, who was still on his knees from holding the orb, and rubbing at his hands. "Of all the stupid things you could have done, you decide to-"

"I could ask the same of you." Aragorn mentioned my brief attempt to take the orb from him.

"Well someone had to-"

"Exactly." Aragorn nodded.

I sighed, aggravated. "Of all the stupid things." I muttered under my breath.

"Pippin…?" Merry asked, shaking his friend's shoulder.

Our attention turned to the hobbit, who was still lying on the floor, unmoving.


	44. Chapter 43 (Watch the creature)

I still dreamt, but most of the frightening images of Frodo and Gollum, or Smeagol or whoever he truly was, were gone now. Now it was memories, passing in dizzying spells. The hills of the Shire, when I had laid eyes on them for the first time, my sweet bedroom back home, with the familiar furniture and the dried flower chain, kept in pristine condition since my youth. There was Kegan and the spars we had. There was Boromir, watching over me as I practised.

I drew strength from these dreams. Once they had been unwelcome interruptions to my sleep, and now they had become an escape.

"I win again." I could hear Kegan say. There was the feeling of sand against my back, and then he would offer his hand to steady me back up again.

"Hardly." I recalled being a poor sportsman to some degree. "I really had you for a few moments there. I saw you lose your balance that one time. And what about that?" I pointed to where I had knocked him with my sword in a close encounter.

He nursed a bruise on his arm. "What? This little scratch?" He shrugged it off. "It doesn't bother me."

I scoffed. "You flinched when you got scratched up. You looked pretty bothered about it then."

He frowned, and I smirked. "Do you want to fight again?" I asked, trying to disguise my enthusiasm.

"Do you want to fight again?" Kegan mimicked me in a higher voice, his version of the feminine vocals.

I caught his joking tone, and replied with as much humor "Never mind…it would be unfair to fight a girl."

We laughed, and I woke, somewhat sore, but no longer tired enough to sleep.

Kegan…how I loved that boy now. Father would not like to hear it, and try to pass it off as a fleeting fancy of mine. That being gone for so long had made me think that I had stronger feelings than friendship for long. But I had admired him for a long time, and kissed him in the secrecy of empty halls and training grounds when people weren't looking.

If I concentrated hard enough I could see every detail of his face still, despite all the time that had passed.

Then Sam snored, quite loudly, and my concentration was broken.

"Gods help the woman that marries you, Samwise." I sighed to myself. I thought of Rosie and I hoped she slept deeply at night.

Frodo was quietly asleep not far away and Gollum was nowhere to be seen, though I expected he was not far off.

I got up to my feet and gently nudged at Frodo with my boot. "Frodo…wake up. We better start walking soon," I judged the position of the sun. "I think we may have overslept some."

Frodo blinked a few times, pulling himself up to a sitting position, but giving no protest. "Did you sleep well?" I asked. Perhaps the slight dalliance in our usual schedule for walking and resting had helped him.

"As well as could be expected." He nodded up at me. "Is Sam awake?"

The hobbit in question snored again. "Does that answer your question?" I smiled.

"And Smeagol?"

"Off doing whatever he does." I answered quickly. "I leave him to his own devices."

I stepped over to Sam, and nudged at him with my boot as well. "Sam…" I tried to be quiet in the process of waking him, but he was so soundly asleep I had to raise my voice and snapped "Samwise!"

He woke with a bit of a start. "Good morning, Miss Fali." He pushed aside my foot.

"Another day, another mile." I said, giving my friend a hand, and pulling him up to his feet.

Sam was kind enough to ration out a few pieces of lembas bread, whilst the bedrolls were packed up. Gollum reappeared the way he usually did, seemingly out of thin air, causing my heart to freeze for a second. He would glare briefly at Sam or I, and then go up to Frodo with the wide eyes and eagerness of a hound that has found the scent of a deer, and beckon for all of us to follow him.

We ate and walked at the same time, trying to make up for our rest. Sam sighed at the sight of the landscape we were in. "Just when you thought things couldn't start looking any grayer…" He nodded over to the twisted up trees, which had stopped sprouting leaves ages ago.

"Don't worry Sam, we won't have to live here the rest of our days." I said. "And the faster we walk, the sooner we can leave this place."

"I'm hurrying as much as I can, Miss Fali." Sam caught onto my little remark encouraging him to walk faster. "Fall back a little won't you?"

I slowed my pace enough to walk beside Sam. "That Gollum creature's been acting more and more strange lately." Sam whispered lowly once we were beside each other. "Have you noticed how he vanishes now? Before he used to stay at the edge of our camp, watching over Frodo, and now…"

"He's gone off by himself before, and he always returns." I debated with the hobbit. "How can you be sure that he is acting differently?"

"Before, if one wanted to go looking for him, which trust me I would have rather not, one could find him away from camp, not too far off. Now if I ever go searching for him I can't find him. He's taken to hiding out there. It sort of feels like he's waiting for something to come along…and he keeps watching us." He glanced over at me seriously. "Have you noticed anything yourself?"

I didn't want to admit it but I was beginning to think that I had. "I can't help but figure that Gollum seems to be as protective over Frodo as ever but…he seems less adoring than he did before. His reactions in the morning seem almost too much, as though they may be false."

"I was beginning to figure that as well." Sam sighed. "Ever since that creature got caught by Faramir and his men, he's been different. I can't say how exactly, but it's off-putting. He acts as though Mister Frodo is still his master but something has changed. Something's snapped inside his head, if you ask me."

I looked Gollum over, from dirty, pale head to toe. "Something snapped in his head a very long time ago Sam. We've only triggered it again."

"Do you reckon he trusts us still?"

"He's never trusted you or I. He's done nothing but hate us from the beginning."

"But what of him and Mister Frodo?"

I shook my head slowly. "I don't know…the creature is too hard to read. When he is passionate about something it often does come in great throes…which makes any time he is pretending to be so friendly and being overdramatic about it seem real."

Silence passed between us for a time as we watched Frodo and Gollum walking on, much like a dog and master, if not for the fact that Gollum was starting to frighten us even more, and certainly made for an ill looking dog.

He glanced back at us again, with a hard glare, which I felt the need to return. Sam expressed his own distaste with a scowl. "I don't like it one bit." He muttered to himself. "Not a bit."

"His head is full of plots." I whispered back. "No doubt ones we are featured in."

"You don't mean…" Sam stuttered briefly with his words. "You don't think, Miss Fali, that he may be planning to…well, you know, get rid of us?"

"Sam there is little else that Gollum could possibly want out of his way."

Sam frowned, and swallowed thickly. "That little monster…" Sam went on. "Soon it won't even be safe for you and I to sleep."

"Hopefully it won't come to that." I tried to comfort Sam. "It's Frodo I'm more scared for than us. There is too much wagered in his success in reaching Mount Doom and finishing what he set out to do. As much as I like my own neck, and prefer for it stay out of harms way, should Gollum snap even further there is less counting in our success."

"Don't be so morbid and ominous." Sam said. "It turns my stomach. Let's have no blood on our hands."

"No one will be dying anytime soon, not while I'm keeping an eye on Gollum." I huffed a little. "Of course, one of us may get a bit scratched up if a fight does break out." I shot a tiny smile at Sam as I quickened my pace again, breaking off from his side and placing myself on the path between him and Frodo. "Gollum." I gave a small nod in the creature's direction.

As I continued to increase my pace I noticed that Gollum seemed to increase his in parallel with mine, often drifting closer to Frodo's side. When I slowed, he seemed to become calmer and let off, drifting away. It raised concern for what Sam and I had just been speaking of and I quickly ran and placed myself directly beside Frodo, shooting Gollum a glare that read "Back away. Now" quite clearly. The creature saw that I knew what he was doing, and may suspect something else in his mind, and shrank back.

"I'm glad you seem to be in better health today." I said, trying to start up a conversation, in order to keep Gollum away.

"You seem to have had brighter spirits over the last few days too." Frodo replied. "I'm glad. You're far better company when you're in a good mood."

"Perhaps we are getting a second wind at last." I said. "It is about time a piece of fortune came our way." I looked around. "Though I don't suppose we can say that the scenery will improve any time soon. What I wouldn't give for some rolling hills." I looked at Frodo. "Well, that will have to wait until our direction finally changes."

"We are not in decent places…" Gollum muttered at a volume loud enough to be heard. He was lurking, not far behind Frodo and I.

"Yes, just as I said." I replied to the creature. I rolled my eyes, looking away so Frodo would not notice, and thought 'Not something that I can blame you for Gollum, though it can certainly feel like it is. There are many things that may be your fault right now but the present state of Mordor is not your doing.'

Frodo stopped in the middle of the path, with a distracted expression on his face. "What is it?" I asked. "Do you need to rest now?" Frodo did not seem very tired yet. "Perhaps we can make it a little further before we stop." I pressed him.

"Come along Mister Frodo." Sam beckoned as he passed him. But Frodo stayed fixed where he was, concentrating on the landscape around us, as if drinking in the details and committing them to memory. "Something the matter?" Sam asked, stepping back, and placing a comforting hand on Frodo's shoulder.

"I just had a thought…a feeling that I would not be coming back."

I knocked Frodo upside the head. "Of all things to think about!" I snapped.

"Ow!" Frodo rubbed at the back of his skull now.

"Now that's just morbid thinking. Doesn't do any good for any of us." Sam said, as he shooed me away, lest I deliver more tough love onto Frodo. "Don't let it get to you yet Frodo. There's plenty of hope for us yet."

"Yes, we've been fortunate to not come across any dangers yet, the lembas is holding up nicely, and the weather has stayed fair enough."

At that moment a statue came into view, still in perfect condition for the body, but the head had been knocked off long ago, and replaced with a large mass of metal and boulder. "Oh." I said.

"I suppose this land used to be part of the territory of Gondor." Sam said.

"How long do you think that's been like that?" Frodo asked.

"A long time, far before we were even born, I would think. Any way we are getting closer by the looks of it."

I looked over to Gollum who was staring ahead of us, as if navigating the path, but it was clear his ears remained fixed on any conversation between us. "Soon we'll be on our way back home again…"

"There and back again…" Sam echoed me. "Oi, look." Sam pointed to the ground, where a stone head lay, among the only flowers I had seen in days. "The king has a crown again."

" Maybe it's a good omen." I said. "Not much longer now." I added, seeing Gollum have a slight spasm in his shoulder at the words. The creature did not want us to leave…and I was beginning to believe he did not intend to let us try.

/

"Did you watch him as we were traveling?" Sam asked me late that evening, after a day spent walking. Our journey was starting to bring us up to higher altitudes. "He's trying to listen in on us…I know it."

"You may be right." I replied, motioning for Sam to hush his voice further, in case Gollum had chosen this moment to listen in. "What of Frodo?"

"Asleep, for once." Sam said, looking happy again. "He's been having a small respite, and it's probably because Gollum doesn't lurk around us at night anymore. Not with you glaring at him like a hawk."

"Good." I nodded. "Let's hope it holds out for a while longer, he needs to recover some of his strength. He's starting to look so pale." I sighed.

"Where is the creature now?" Sam asked.

I glanced around, seeing only a withering forest a dusk. Gollum had disappeared into the mess of tangled bushes and trees an hour ago, while the rest of us had eaten another ration of lembas, and set up camp. "He's out there somewhere, eating lizards I imagine." Sam made a face at this, his head probably filling with unpleasant images of Gollum's diet. "I know." I grimaced a little with him. "How unfair that we have only the lembas to keep us fed and yet his food seems to be crawling all over this place. Literally." I straightened my back out, causing tired muscles to stretch themselves out and a few satisfying pops and cracks to be heard. "I'll go see if I can find him. I'd feel better knowing where he is rather than simply guessing."

"I'll go watch over Mister Frodo." Sam said, his voice distorting into a yawn at the end.

"Mind you don't drift off to sleep yet, Sam."

"I won't Miss Fali, wouldn't dream of it."

Something told me Sam was fighting a losing battle with his fatigue. I smirked to myself as I ventured off to find Gollum, seeing Sam's eyelids drift closed.

Twilight in this forest was a very eerie time, where shadows seemed to be more alive than usual. "That creature is definitely in his element." I mused quietly to myself. "Gollum." I dared to call out. "Come back to the camp. The night is falling."

No answer, not that I had expected one to be given so readily.

I huffed, and with my hands placed on my hips, one hand wandering close to my blade, called out again. "Gollum!" I was sharp in tone. Perhaps this is why Gollum had always made me so uneasy. He was so much like a living shadow, unstable as a madman and with the capability of a child. Dangerous, unseen, and with ample pity. No wonder Gandalf had warned us of him.

I heard a sound, something like a sigh and a growl almost, up above me. "So you're hiding in the treetops then." I glanced upward, and a dark figure moved along the branches, reminding me of the first glimpses I had gotten of Gollum in that thunderstorm. True to the memory, the moon dashed in between two patches of cloud, giving just enough light for Gollum to stand out against the bark, sickly white, like he had in the lightening once.

"I see you." I said, trying to calm my rising adrenaline. "Come down, Gollum."

He did, crawling in the most inhuman way possible, and likely just to get a rise out of me too. "Where is Master?" Frodo asked.

"Frodo is asleep." I replied. "You can't wander off like this Gollum. It isn't safe for you." Though such a statement was likely true, it still felt like a lie on my tongue. Gollum seemed to understand that the concern I showed was the lie, and frowned a little.

"Unsafe for us." He sounded like he was laughing at the idea.

"We're getting closer to Mordor, something may reach out and grab you in the night." Perhaps I could scare him like a child too.

"Or something could reach out and grab you." Gollum said.

"I'll keep my eyes open then." I said. "Keep a watch on the trees, the hobbits…you."

Gollum glanced back at me. "You never know what might try to grab you in the middle of the night." I shrugged, staring him down.

"Yes." Gollum nodded.

"I have first watch tonight."

I walked ahead, not daring to look back at Gollum, but feeling his eyes burn into my back. The creature was turning more mad, and less child-like by the day.

I didn't know how much longer I could stand it. It felt like the more I kept watch over Gollum, he seemed to be watching me just as carefully.


	45. Chapter 44 (Back home)

"And do you remember how we all snuck into Goblintown?" Bilbo asked me. He sighed, a small breath of laughter escaping from him. "What a mess that was."

"If I remember it correctly Bilbo, we didn't really sneak into Goblintown…" I said gently. "Rather we fell into it. The floor collapsed from under us all." I paused. "You remember that, don't you old friend?"

He paused, his face drawn up in concentration, sifting through old memories like his mind was a library full of ancient scrolls, dusty and unorganized. It took the hobbit a few moments but he did say at last "Yes…yes the whole cave floor disappeared from under our feet. " He shook his head. "It was quite a fall, one I'll happily not be making again."

"No, thank goodness." I agreed softly. I looked over my old friend and realised again that the term was more literal now. Bilbo had aged considerably since the night of his hundred and eleventh birthday party. It had been startling to us all, but we had refused to desert him. The elves had done their best in Rivendell, but while their care was notable, nothing could stop the natural effects of time from finally catching up with Bilbo. With the healers permission we had moved him to Erebor, and it looked like he would be spending his last days not in the Shire but under the mountain.

I found myself reflecting on how in his old age, Bilbo reminded of a child lying in bed. He seemed smaller somehow, more fragile. Perhaps I was missing my own children too much. But I could not dwell on the thoughts of Fali and Gideon without a sad look passing over my face. Bilbo caught me in the middle of such thoughts and patted my hand with his own tired, wrinkled one. "There, there." He said, just as kindly as I had been speaking with him. "With every day, they get a little closer to home." He slowly fumbled through the pocket of his nightshirt for something and removed a handkerchief of all things. White, with his initials in scarlet thread. He held it up to me, though raising his arm so high now caused his limb to shake like a thin tree branch in the middle of a storm. I accepted the gesture with a smile and wiped away mistiness from my eyes.

"You're right, of course, but it does not make the waiting any easier." I said.

"No." He shook his head. "It does not." Perhaps Frodo was as much on his mind as my children were on mine. "Goblintown…" He mused softly. "All this trouble started in Goblintown, down in those murky caves."

"Our fortunes did take turbulent rises and falls after that." I agreed. "One moment we were running away from wargs, then flying on the backs of eagles and then running away from a bear and then in his home, sleeping."

"Yes, those troubles…" Bilbo said. "But also this one."

The Ring. I had hardly spoken of it since Rivendell. But the truth as to Bilbo's incredible luck in the journey of old had been revealed. It had not be luck at all, but rather magic, and dark magic at that. And of all people to pocess something of dark power, I had never thought Bilbo to be the one. His heart had always been so good and genuine, and the two ideas simply refused to collide in my head. Perhaps that was why it took us all so long to realise he had it.

"Do not blame yourself." I said. "You did not know it's true power when you first found it. It saved your life, many lives in fact, time and time again on our old journey. It's hard to believe it did something good, but it did, even if it was plotting something sinister all along. How were you to know of the heavy price for keeping it?"

"The fact that my aging was so delayed should have given me some clue that I wasn't meant to keep it." He sighed. "Turning invisible is one thing, yes, but when something is able to prevent something as natural as growing old…I should have suspected. And then I gave it to Frodo…knowing that it came with a burden I gave it to him."

"He took it just as willingly as you gave it." I comforted him. "And now he is doing what is best. You should be proud he could see what had to be done when many couldn't."

"You should feel the same for your own children." Bilbo smiled softly.

There was a quiet knock at the door, and Fili entered.

"Was there any word of them?" I asked, forgetting Bilbo for a second and turning all my thoughts to Fali and Gideon again. Perhaps, hope against hope, there was a message about them at least. Not knowing what was happening to them now, and not knowing how they faired, would be so much more bearable if only I could look at a map and know where they were.

"No, not today." Fili replied, shaking his head. "Not yet."

I managed a small smile. "Perhaps tomorrow then. They may surprise us yet, right Bilbo?" But Bilbo had succumbed to his fatigue and fallen asleep as I had been talking with my husband. Slowly I tucked the handkerchief back into his pocket, and pulled the bedclothes more securely over him. "Good night, burglar." I said quietly, and rose from my stool placed at his bedside.

I joined Fili, closing the door silently behind us. The walk home was quiet. Each morning we woke up with the small hope that today may be the day we'd finally hear something of them, and every night we had to face reality that it simply wasn't possible for us to know what was happening. I glanced over my husband, who looked more tired as of late, and placed a hand comfortingly on his shoulder.

We had company outside of our doorway. One guest was one we saw regularily and the second we saw rarely now.

"Kegan, Vesper." I said.

"Is there any word from Fali and Gideon?" The young man asked, forgetting to say any greeting.

"No." I shook my head. "There is no need to come every evening Kegan, you know we will be letting everyone know when we hear of any news." Indeed, Kegan had come to our door, every night since we returned without Fali or Gideon, and asked if there was any word from them. No matter how many times Fili or I had told him his vigil was not needed, he still came. It reminded me of how he used to come and collect Fali for sparring in the evenings before.

He nodded. "Thank you." He nodded. "I'll leave you to your other company then." Only a handful of times had I convinced Kegan to stay beyond the brief minutes it took to exchange pleasantries and information. "I'll see you tomorrow then." He bowed his head a little in respect and left. Yes, we would see him tomorrow and the next day, until our family was whole again.

"I was going to ask the same." Vesper said, stepping forward. "It's good to see you both."

"Will you stay for a little while Vesper?" I asked. "You came to our door, you may as well."

"I could spare a few minutes." Vesper said.

"If you would excuse me, I think I will pay my own visit to Kili and Tauriel. They are probably wondering how today went too." He left, saying 'Welcome back' to Vesper.

Fili had enough trouble looking at the young women Fali's age and men of Gideon's walk around Erebor. To sit with one in our home, particularly one that he had seen grow beside our children, would be asking too much. To invite Vesper inside was to invite the image of our two youngest.

"Come in." I opened the door and led the girl in. "Have you come with your family?" I asked.

"No, Father sent me on my own. He sends his fondest wishes. Mother sends her own regards."

"I hear you are pronounced the heir of your mother now. Soon you'll take over in her place. What will Varis do then?"

"Mother will be at hand to advise me, but Father has convinced her to 'settle down' or as much as she'll allow."

I laughed softly, imagining how such a strong woman would stand days of leisure.

The house seemed emptier than normal, even with company, as Vesper choose to sit herself before the fireplace. Fali would sit in the same spot to help dry her hair after washing it, and I would run a brush through the tangles, trying to help her with the mess of knots she managed to create. The brush in question still sat on the corner of the mantle.

For a second I fought the urge, Vesper was not my daughter, and didn't even resemble Fali in the slightest with her dark hair. But there was something in the action that I missed.

"This may sound like a silly request…" I started. "But would you mind if I brushed your hair? I know it must seem as though I'm treating you like a child but, -"

"No, you may." Vesper said. "I don't mind."

I sat behind her, taking a comb out of her hair and passing it to her. "That's a beautiful piece." I complimented before setting to the task at hand.

"It was a gift." Vesper replied.

"Thank you for visiting." I said to Vesper. "I needed something young in this home again." Though Vesper did not look very young. Her face had long ago lost it's childhood softness, and she now had the sharper angles of her mother's face. Beautiful cheekbones and a firmly set jawline, gentled only by her mouth, sweet and occasionally brandishing an amused smirk, like her father's. I passed the brush through Vesper's curls again. "Does your own mother do this with you?" I asked.

"When I was small." Vesper said. "The older I got the less time we had to indulge in looks, and so hairbrushes were replaced with swords and daggers." She sighed, glancing at the rug in front of the fireplace where her and Fali and Gideon had all sat before.

"How long will you be staying?" I asked, seeking to srep around the absence of those two.

"Only a day or two." Vesper replied. "I cannot be away from home long, soon I will be the fully fledged leader, inheriting all my mother's people. I will have more responsibilities than I do now."

"Will there be a big ceremony? Something like the parties we have in Erebor?"

"No doubt some pomp and circumstance will be made…though all in good taste. It wouldn't be wise to flaunt the first inheritance of power for the Southern nymphs. The idea is so new, it must be handled correctly."

"Your mother and father must be so proud of you, you've grown so well into your role."

"Yes." Vesper said quietly of herself. "For a time I considered not coming to Erebor, as Fali and Gideon were not here…it wouldn't be the same…but there's always been something lovely about this mountain."

"I'm glad you think so." I nodded.

"I know they were only friends, that blood never joined us…except for Orian, but a cousin is not as close as a brother…they felt like my brothers, and Fali a sister of sorts. Especially since I didn't have any of my own. Mother was quite firm about having one child and only one."

"Forgive me but I never imagined Varis to be a mother to begin with. I was surprised she even wanted one child, she was so fierce with her goals for your homeland. No doubt she found parenthood surprising."

"Her fierce goals for the South were why she only ever wanted one child." She said. "One child, one heir, and everlasting peace in the South that she fought so hard for. She was so happy I was a girl, afraid that a son would be too easily drawn in with fighting for the thrill of it. Not that there's anything wrong with a friendly spar, but one must understand it's true purposes to respect it." She stared into the flames with me, as she used to do with my children in summers gone by. "No siblings…no competition between children for a role that only one could fulfill. Rivalry between two offspring would have only created conflict where she wanted to dissolve it at home. She meant to have me in the name of peace…and yet even she could not escape the occasional moment of maternal affection…no doubt she found parenthood surprising." Vesper repeated my words. "Everyone here gave me something I could not find back home…a larger family, a girl of my age and of similar interests to have as a friend, young men who knew better than to fight back at the simplest things, leading to a bloody mess…" She paused, finishing with a repeat of "It's not the same without them here."

"You miss fighting out your emotions with Fali…and talking of such things with Gideon."

"Fali found the comb with me the last days we spent searching through the library achieves. We felt we must have been told old for such pillaging, but we went looking through the collections anyways. She told me to take it. Said I would be like a queen in the South. We both knew I wouldn't be getting any sort of crown…too prominent a display of my higher status than what men with large egos could take. But she felt I deserved something like one. She even went so far as to pin it into my hair in front of all the others, saying something like a coronation speech. "

One could hear in her voice that no matter how much 'pomp and circumstance' was made when she was stated to be the ruling power of the South, Vesper would always look back on the tiny ceremony with our children with more fondness.

"I hope you don't mind me taking this heirloom of your people." Vesper said, twirling the ornament in her hands. "But Fali insisted, saying that she was part of the line of Durin and she could very well pass on a piece of treasure to a friend if she wanted to."

"I'm sure no one will mind." I said, putting down the hairbrush and now taking three parts of her hair and beginning to braid it.

"Gideon made me a pendent." Vesper said. "For good luck when I became ruler. He knew how I felt about leadership…perhaps more than anyone."

"Gideon made a pendent…really?" I had not known my youngest son to make anything, start to finish, on his own. Gideon's forge skills, while passable, did not compete with Fien's or that of infamous dwarf craftsmen.

Vesper pulled a pendent out from the confines of her tunic. "It's not much." She said. "It's an otter, the symbol of good fortune. He must have figured it had done him well all these years, so surely it would help me. He did not know how to make a complete casting of it's image. Making the mold proved too difficult." She passed it to me, and I examined the small pendent. It was only an oval piece of silver, with smaller pieces shaped to form the body, limbs and head of an otter on it's surface.

"You can tell he made mistakes." Vesper said. "The tail he made is too long, the edges aren't as smooth as they could be…and the otter is not centered entirely right."

"He tried." I said, touching his piece with my fingertip lightly. My boy had made this, tried to create something with his own hands. It was by no means a great piece of work, but every uneven edge spoke of Gideon's labour and heart melding the silver as much as fire, hammer, and chisel had.

"He was almost afraid to give it to me with how it turned out. The comb from Fali was so beautiful and Frerin and Fien had made me little gifts as well. I had to rip it out of his hands and put it around my neck before he could take it back."

I snickered softly at my son's actions.

"I always teased him about going on an adventure of some kind." Vesper said. "I never expected he would actually do such a thing. His heart was home in this mountain, and he didn't desire to go far away, or leave it for very long. Sometimes I think he went only to keep Fali safe out there. But…he also knew he was different from the others, knew he wasn't filling certain expectations of a dwarf or a prince. Sometimes when those feelings boiled long enough inside him they came out suddenly, either in harsh words or as melancholy. But never violence…Gideon was never violent a day in his life."

"No." I shook my head. "From the day he was born he was meant to be a gentle soul."

"War and danger aren't meant for gentle souls." Vesper said. She looked down at the imperfect pendent once more. "He'll come back…different."

The words, which we must have been feeling inside for some time, hit us like slaps in the face. It was like being told my son was going to die, and in a way I suppose it was true. Gideon would come back changed. Fali would come back changed. The children I had sent away would not be the ones who would return to me. There would be scars, on both body and mind. Fali would have realised the dark side of adventure that we had hidden in the shadow of our stories. Gideon's gentle soul would be marred by the harshness he was enduring.

I finished the braid in Vesper's hair. "Finished." I commented. "It looks lovely on you."

"Thank you." Vesper stood again. "I'm afraid I have to go back to my Aunt's apartments now. I didn't mean to stay as long as I did." She nodded in farewell as she headed for the door quietly. Before she left she turned back and asked "If they return soon…you will write me, yes? I don't think I'll be able to visit again if they return soon, but I want to know when they return, and what condition they are in."

"Of course, Vesper." I promised. "I'll send word as soon as we have it ourselves."

She turned again to leave, meeting Fili in the doorway, excusing herself with a polite nod, and stepping around him, disappearing down the halls. "Did you know that Gideon made Vesper a pendent when she said she was to become leader?" I asked.

"No." Fili shook his head. "He'd never shown much interest in forge work before. Did you see how it turned out?"

"Somewhat flawed, but a decent first try. An otter for luck, but one with a tail too long."

"It's good to hear that what I taught him stayed in his mind, even though he didn't practise those skills often." Fili said.

"Kegan has not stopped coming in the evenings." I said, observationally. "The day Fali finally comes back, I think he's made up his mind to take her away…and she may very well go with him."

Fili understood what I was implying, that our daughter and her friend (or more than a friend, it was difficult to get the girl to admit her true feelings in front of us all) would perhaps marry one day.

"I'll not be letting her go away with anyone for quite some time when she returns." Fili said. "I've been missing her for as long as he has…and I've loved her longer than he has."

"Please don't fight him for her, you know she'll not go running to his arms first, but yours and mine."

"I won't fight him." Fili promised. "I could, and I would win surely, but it wouldn't do to embarrass the poor lad like that."

I laughed. "I should not laugh at such things." I shook my head. "I would be fighting him with you if it came to that."

He smirked. "Hopefully one day soon." He said. "One day…when they're finally home." And Fili pulled me close for an embrace I did not know I needed.

"One day…" I echoed softly into his shoulder.


	46. Chapter 45 (The ones we're closest too)

"Pippin…Pippin?...Pippin!" Merry repeated his friend's name with an increasing tone of urgency. The hobbit in question was lying on the floor, unresponsive to our attempts to snap him out of his shock. Merry was going so far as to grip his friend by the shoulders and try to shake the stupor out of him. An attempt which we quickly ended, afraid of Merry accidently striking a dent into Pippin's skull in the process.

"Stop it or you may end up hurting him." I pulled Merry back by the end of his shirt.

"Is he dead?" Merry asked, the thought occurring to him. Whatever power the dark orb had, it clearly had ill effects on those not strong enough to yield it. Hobbits who at best wielded swords, and prior to that only dinner knives, included.

"No." Was my quick reply. "That's absurd." I really had no idea at that moment how Pippin was fairing in terms of life and death. In all honesty he looked as though he had been scared to death, his face having gone pale, and his eyes wide and full of fear. But I refused to think the trouble making little hobbit had been served his last dose of bitter medicine.

Gandalf was the one who set things right, coming to Pippin's side, checking him over quickly, and restoring him with a few mumbled incantations, in a language I couldn't make out with my blood pounding in my ears. Whatever reverie Pippin was in he snapped out of it, and began shaking, and apologizing all at once. He remnded me of a child who had awoken from a nightmare.

"There we are." I released my hold on Merry. "That's an improvement at least."

"Pippin look at me…" The wizard said, trying to remain patient, as Pippin looked away from his face and his eyes darted from Merry to me to Aragorn and onward from person to person, seeking out everyone but the wizard. "Pippin, look…what did you see?" Gandalf was firm, requiring answers, and as quickly as possible. Pippin mumbled a few more apologies. I was beginning to think Pippin had not remembered what he saw or did not see, when suddenly, in a shaky voice "A white tree…in a courtyard…it was dead, burning…the city was on fire…"

"This city?" Aragorn asked.

"No." Pippin's teeth chattered as he continued to quiver.

"Minas Tirith? Is that what you saw?" Gandalf pressed. At the mention of the great city everyone frowned realising Pippin may have gotten into more trouble than he normally did.

"I saw him." Pippin either ignored or forgot the question. "His voice was in my head, and he was speaking to me."

"Minas Tirith, was that the city you saw?" Gandalf repeated himself, dropping some of his patient tone.

"I…I think so." He swallowed thickly.

"Did you tell him anything? What did you say to him?"

"I can't be sure, I've never laid eyes on Minas Ti-"

"Speak Pippin! Answer the question." Gandalf snapped.

"He asked my name." Pippin finally answered. "I didn't answer." He quickly added. "Then he hurt me."

"And what of Frodo and the Ring? What did you say of them?"

I exchanged a worried glance with Aragorn, and then Eowyn, who stepped forward and gently placed her hand on Pippin's shoulder, in what was the most comforting gesture he received in his interrogation. "Pippin…did you say anything about Frodo?" She asked quietly.

The silence before his response was in reality only two seconds, but it felt stretched out to the span of a decade. Somewhere in those two seconds there was enough time to panic that the Dark Lord had finally gained the information he desperately wanted, and then assure oneself that Pippin had been too surprised and frightened to say anything, and then doubt oneself and be sure that Pippin, under the pain the orb inflicted on him, had let out Frodo's plans.

The internal debate continued on, switching sides, and with tension building until Pippin finally said "No."

I let out a vocal sigh of relief. "Thank all Valar." I mumbled to myself. "Fool of a Took." I echoed Gandalf's phrase for Pippin.

"Do not thank them just yet, Gideon." Gandalf rose, pulling up the hobbit with him. "We still have our consequences to deal with."

/

"Does he know he's leaving with Gandalf?" I asked Merry after a late counsel with Theoden had taken place.

Merry shook his head. "He's honest, as Gandalf said…but he's also a fool, as Gandalf said." He shook his head. "I don't think he's realised it yet. He's too relieved that things turned out as well as they did, given everything that could have gone wrong."

"He'll find out eventually." I sighed.

"No doubt when he's on horseback already." Merry nodded. "I'll try to talk some sense into him, we can't have him getting himself into trouble in Minas Tirith, can we?"

"If our fate rests on Pippin behaving himself…"

"I hope not." Merry shook his head and even laughed a little. He finished packing away Pippin's bag, a task that he had set about with the devotion of a brother. "Anyway, he'll have everything he needs there."

"He won't have you though." I added quietly. It was no secret that Pippin and Merry had been attached to each others sides since youth. I could not remember a time in which they had been separated for more than a few hours. To send one away and keep another here sounded almost cruel, and had it not been Gandalf's idea, I would not have trusted it.

"No." Merry frowned. "Maybe he won't have everything he needs, not in the strictest definition."

"But Gandalf will be there to watch over him." I added with more optimism. "And it would be awfully hard for Pippin to get into any trouble with the wizard always looking over his shoulder."

"He may find a way." Merry shook his head. "Has Gandalf left from the main hall yet?"

I glanced out the window, in time to see Gandalf bidding farewell to Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn. "He's parting just now."

"I suppose I better find Pippin, break the news to him as best I can." He looked up at me. "May I ask a favor of you?"

"Of course." I felt oddly like my sister, jumping at the chance to aid Merry and Pippin, suddenly defending them as she did before turning down another path.

"Would you take the bag I packed and bring it down to the stables? Perhaps down one of the back corridors? I wouldn't want Pip to see me holding it. He may not seem the brightest hobbit, but he would be able to put the pieces together if he saw a bag all packed up for him. I need to talk to him first, before he realizes he's leaving."

"I'll bring it down now." I nodded, and I slung the bag over my shoulder. An enormous weight fell between my shoulder blades. "It's heavier than it looks." I said, adjusting it on my shoulder. "What on earth did you pack for him? Rocks?"

"Food." Merry answered casually. "I raided the kitchen for him."

"Must have been some raid." I muttered under my breath as I made my exit, nodding a quick farewell to Merry. "No wonder he's having me carry it down…he probably couldn't lift it on his own."

I began to make my way down one of the back staircases, as requested. In my moment alone I found my head suddenly swimming with problems. There was the trouble Pippin had caused, Eowyn's fancy after Aragorn, which I could only hope did not cause any ill will between parties. Then the ever present concerns for ourselves, for Fali, for Frodo and the Ring.

"Saving the world….out of everything I could have done I choose to help save Middle Earth." I sighed.

"If I recall the occasion correctly," Aragorn spoke from the bottom of the staircase as I appeared. "It was your sister who pulled you along, and you were quite unhappy with her for doing so. She started sparring with you and you were unaware that Lord Elrond was watching. You took on the quest with a sense of duty, not complete willingness."

"Oh." I was reminded of those first few days of the journey which seemed to be years ago. "Well, you're not wrong." I added, continuing my walk, and Aragorn followed by my side.

"I'm glad your opinion has changed though." Aragorn said.

"It has?" I raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"From what you were saying, it now sounds like you do choose to be with the Fellowship, small as it is now."

Aragorn's observation was right. If I was suddenly placed back before Lord Elrond and if I was asked if I would go with them, I would agree now. I'd still hate certain things…fighting and death and Fali leaving to protect Frodo and Sam when I thought she would be at my side as Pippin thought Merry would be. But I would go with them.

"Anyone can have a change of heart." I replied. After a pause, I asked "What will happen now?"

"We try to gain favor with Minas Tirith."

"Theoden didn't sound so positive over the idea."

"He is reluctant but he hasn't lost faith yet." Aragorn said. "Gandalf means not to fail us in his absence."

"So the wizard has some plan or other all thought up." I nodded. "Do you know what it is?"

"Yes, that which he told me."

"I suppose I'm not to be privy to those details?"

"No, you'll not know a thing, as is best."

"And Gandalf thinks it is only Merry and Pippin who get up to tricks." I shook my head and smirked. "If only he knew…"

We reached the stables and I swung Pippin's bag over the saddle, tying it down. From far off, but drawing closer, there was the sound of Merry almost scolding Pippin, and the hobbit apologizing for it. "We should leave." I said. "It will be hard enough for Pippin to part with one of us, worst of all with Merry. To have more of us about at the moment will only make it more difficult."

"We should be able to see him and Gandalf riding off from the wall." Aragorn said. "If you wish to witness them leaving. You seem to have become sort of attached to them since Pippin unknowingly caused this trouble."

"Fali would have wanted me to be in her absence…though I can't say it's only out of duty…it's difficult to hate hobbits, even ones as troublesome as Pippin and Merry. They never mean to harm anyone. They never mean to go looking for fights. Every bit of trouble they do cause is by accident, and so one can never hate them." We walked up the stairs to the top of the wall, turning our gaze toward the open land. I checked over my shoulder to see Gandalf making his way slowly to the stables. "Of course, it's still possible to be frustrated by them, now and then…"

"In some respects you sound hobbit-like." Aragorn said.

I nodded, silent. It had not been the first time the observation had been made, and I had often made it myself.

"I hope my saying so does not offend you. It is meant to be an admirable quality."

"Thank you." I replied. From Aragorn, it sounded like a compliment. Truly, if every person meant the harm that they did in life it would be a much darker world we lived in…I was suddenly more glad than ever I still favored peace over spars. What had sounded boring in my childhood now sounded like a necessity.

There was the sound of a horse breaking into a run from below. "They are leaving now." I sighed.

True to my prediction, Merry came bolting up the wall, and watching with us as Shadowfax raced off, carrying Gandalf and Pippin, looking more like a streak of white than like a horse and his riders. Merry watched it all with a serious, but saddened, look. I found myself shaking his shoulder a little to comfort him, and remind him that he was not alone yet.

"He's been by my side since we were just tweens." Merry said, quietly. "I got him into the worst sort of trouble…"

"It looks like he could manage trouble making very well on his own Merry, it is not your fault that he stumbled into another mishap." I said.

"I was always there to get him out of trouble though."

I watched the horse and riders travel on farther, beginning to melt into the landscape and disappear from sight. A felt a small pain in my chest, a stirring memory of when Fali wished me farewell, and then turned on her heel and disappeared down the river with Frodo and Sam. I had felt so empty in that moment…poor Merry, his own chest probably felt as empty.

"From what I've learned of hobbits, they are a most hardy folk." Aragorn said. "He will be fine."

"Foolhardy maybe…he is a Took after all." And Merry found he was able to laugh, causing us both to grin at him.

Merry watched the horizon long after our friends were gone. Aragorn and I stood by for a long time, but eventually I turned and whispered quietly that he may go. He had much to attend to, and I was capable of minding Merry.

A while after Aragorn departed Merry heaved a heavy sigh. "Are you alright?" I asked.

"I shouldn't have gave him all the pipeweed I had left." Merry mused. "A bit wasteful of me to do that." He grinned, and it became apparent that he was joking again.

"Truly you've spoiled him. I should be next to leave." I smiled, and concluded that we should climb down from the wall. "Come on, Merry." I said. "Follow me."

"Where to?"

"You'll see, just follow."

I've become Fali, was all I could think. Or more like her anyway. I pulled my sword from my belt as I led Merry to an empty courtyard. "Whenever Fali felt angry or depressed she'd practise drills until all her energy was spent." I said. "I found some odd peace in it to, just practising the motions. Eases the mind, let's you focus on something else."

"Fali always said you hated swordfighting…that you would rather read books in some private corner."

"I find I appreciate it now more." I said. "Aragorn taught me well."

"So now you're going to teach me?"

"Well, try to teach you." I shrugged. "Can't promise I'll make a good instructor, but Fali would knock me over the head if I didn't make sure that someone was keeping up your training."

Merry looked unsure. He hadn't done much fighting the whole of the journey, his path leading him elsewhere. "Trust the one who's still sand between his shoulder blades from his youth at the training grounds. You'll get better."

He slowly took out his own blade and stood in a somewhat ready stance. "The last time I did anything like this, Boromir…"

"Yes…right." I nodded. "But you should keep learning all the same. He didn't teach you something just so you could stop learning."

"You've been spending too much time with Aragorn…you're starting to sound a little like him."

I smirked. "Enough stalling, stand straighter. And put your feet a little farther apart." He did what I said. "Now keep your grip…" I struck my blade lightly against his. "Now, attack first."

Merry swung well, and met me swing for swing.

"You should have come to Erebor when you were younger." I said. "No doubt my brothers would have jumped on you and turned you into a true fighter." I swung hard and Merry lost his grip on his sword, which went flying across the courtyard. I shrugged, keeping the air around our practise light, and carefree. "It might have taken them a few summers, but they would have been wonderful seasons." I went and retrieved the blade for him. "Stronger grip, Merry. Now, attack first."

"Again?"

"That's how Aragorn trained me."

"How did your Father teach you?" Merry asked, beginning the spar.

"My father taught me the basics, how to stand, how to swing…I never really got on with fighting in formal lessons. I performed much better with my family. Actually…I think it was my mother who gave me my very first lesson. She fought as well as my father…and had more time on her hands. It's hard to help run a kingdom when you have four young children running in four different directions. Sparring was the only way she could organize us. She'd set Frerin and Fien against each other and practise with Fali and I."

"And the peace making streak in you?"

"The what?" I asked. "You noticed that?"

"It would be hard not too, you've come to the Shire so many summers." Merry laughed. "You and conflict didn't mix at all. Has it been knocked out of you?"

"I was born with it, I think. Must have been, it's been in me as far back as I can remember. It will take more than a few skirmishes and battles to knock it out."

I rallied against Merry, and the hobbit tried to overcome my attacks but was forced backward a ways, and eventually held up his arms in surrender.

"Good try that time." I nodded. "On the next one, try favoring your right a little more, it will help you balance."

"Gideon…"

"Yes?" Merry's eyes widened and focused on something behind me, and as I turned around a blade swung high and I flinched nervously, shielding myself from Aragorn. "What?" I managed to spit out the word in my surprise.

But Aragorn only uncrossed his sword from mine, took a half-step back and swung again, this time forcing me to move my person altogether. I swatted at his sword in a weak move. "You tried to sneak up on me…" I went on.

"Well it's not uncommon for people to come at you from behind…a man has more than one side to him, doesn't he?" He glanced over me shoulder. "Merry, would you care to join me?"

Merry gave a small, but devilish, smirk and stood ready, behind me.

"Teaming up on me? Is that my new challenge?" I asked. "Or is this meant to be a reminder that I am still a student myself?" Aragorn swung, and Merry made a false move, making me nearly jump out of my skin, expecting to be poked or prodded from one side, if not struck from both.

"I think you were making a passable instructor." Aragorn said. "Though sparring is meant to be a challenge at it's core."

So I was starting to outgrow my one-against-one trials. Or perhaps it was foolish to continue them after I had seen a battle like Helm's Deep. I smiled inwardly at my progress.

Merry then made a swing at me that came perilously close to one of my lower ribs, making that smile dissolve.

"Watch it!" I snapped, a bit harshly.

"Sorry, didn't mean to." Merry brushed it off quickly.

Aragorn then paused the spar, stepping back and lowering his sword. "Perhaps you had better find something with a little less impact Merry, until your technique matches your courage."

Merry agreed, and rushed off to find a wooden blade that could only bruise me, rather than give me a nasty scar.

"It's good of you to distract him, and give him the practise he needs." Aragorn said.

I nodded, my hand straying to my side where Merry's blade had nearly made contact, checking to make sure I was all right. There was no blood, or even a tear in the cloth, but my mind was still very alert and I felt as though there was some mark left there. "Substituting for Fali." I said, still checking over my rib. "We both needed something else to focus on, or we'd dwell too much on those we're closest too not being at our sides." I sighed. "I hope he does well without Pippin."

"If it's anything like how you did without Fali, he will only grow from it."

"You know if you want to compliment my progress, you can just say so, there's no need to riddle up your words. 'I'm proud of your growth, Gideon' will suffice." I said.

"You think I'm proud of what you've done?" Aragorn turned to me.

"Well…" I began to backtrack my words. "I was hoping you would be…I thought you might be…granted not proud of everything mind you, the whole getting you thrown off a horse and being such sulking, scared little thing at the beginning aren't my proudest moments…or trying to use the axe with Gimli, I fell right over…and getting intoxicated that one night we were celebrating…"

Aragorn held up his hand to quiet me, or else I may leave nothing good in my reputation. "Merry's returning. Let's continue the spar."

For a moment I looked at him, and for the briefest second it looked as though he would say those words, and his pride would be known. And then…

"Carry on, instructor." Words said with a well meant smirk.

I sighed. Perhaps another time…perhaps when Fali was around to hear it as well.

 **Finally updating after what seems like forever. C'est la vie.**


	47. Chapter 46 (The stairs)

Mordor looked even grimmer than before. Not even their fires could burn with ease, for whatever fueled them was likely something crude pulled from the earth, and burned with an eerie greenish glow. Whatever else they were burning cast up such smoke that it blackened their sky, and the light that shone through was like the weakest rays that make it through in a storm. We all stared up at the tall, imposing gate. "The Dead City…nasty place…full of enemies." Gollum informed us.

"You said you knew another entrance for us." Frodo said, to which the creature nodded. "Bring us there."

Gollum did so, bringing us out from our hiding place, and too far out into the open for everyone's taste, even his, as he hurried us along. "Look! We have found it. The way into Mordor. The secret stairs." He motioned to our path into Mordor, a winding path of steps hewn into the rock. They were so steep that at times they appeared to be almost a vertical climb. A child could have made better steps.

"Is this really the only way?" Sam asked, disheartened, and looking over the stairs with worry. It would certainly make a difficult climb.

"Does the gate over there look any better?" I asked him. "Don't worry, we'll climb it one way or another. Won't we Frodo?"

I turned around to find Frodo not beside me as I thought he was, but wandering closer and closer to the gate.

"No! Mister Frodo!" Sam shouted, realizing his absence as well.

The two of us ran to him, grabbing an arm each and pulling him back. Frodo seemed to stumble on his feet, as though he had little control over where he was walking. Even Gollum was at his side, pulling on the end of his cloak.

"What are you doing?" I demanded of Frodo. "This is foolish!"

"I can hear them calling me." Frodo said, as though he was partly in some sort of trance. I though of moths drawn to flames and hurried to bring him back to a safer location, pulling harder and giving little thought if I was hurting him in the process. Sam and I shook him, trying to break his focus on the gate. "Don't listen to them, Frodo! Get back where it's safe!"

There was a sudden explosion of light. Our eyes could only view it for a second, it's brilliance among the weak torches almost blinding. "Now!" I shouted. "Get back now!" Sam and I all but lifted Frodo off his feet and tripped over our own as we hurried back to the cover of the rocks, hoping it would shield us from view.

What followed next was a blur of light and equally intense noise. The gate rolled open, stone grinding on stone, and then the thunder of hundreds, if not thousands, of footsteps emerged in the form of heavily armored orcs. It was loud but bearable until there was an awfully familiar shriek in the air that send chills down all of our spines. The hands I had firmly grasping Frodo, trying to hold him back, now shot up to my ears trying to stopper some of the sound. Frodo dared to look over the stone we were hiding behind and his look back at Sam and I confirmed it. The Riders. A tiny glance afforded me the glimpse of a serpentine tail lashing back and forth. I removed my hands from my ears and pulled Sam and Frodo farther down behind the stones.

For a few minutes we were shaken, and backed away up the first steps more than walked, trying to put a little more distance between our enemies and us. "Do you think they know it is nearby?" Frodo asked, in a whisper.

"They might." I answered, unsure myself.

"We don't know what may be happening elsewhere." Sam said. "They could be leaving for any number of reasons."

"None of which are good, I'm sure." I said. "But so long as we are not what their eyes are focused on, we have a little less cause for worry." I assured Frodo.

"Come." Gollum finally spoke again. "We must climb."

The three of us stared at the perilous steps again. A single misplaced step and the result seemed like it would be a fatal one.

Frodo took the first step, and we followed, gingerly placed hand and foot on stairs that looked as though they were decomposing as we climbed.

It was going to be a long climb.

/

"One of us ought to go and walk in between them." I nodded at Sam and then toward Frodo and Gollum.

"Yes, one of us should." Sam nodded.

"Well…" I urged him in a whisper. "Go on."

Sam said nothing, but shot me a look that appeared almost pained. I groaned at his silent protest. "Really Sam, you'd think after so much traveling, and being captured by Faramir and his men, Gollum wouldn't be able to have any ill effect on you."

"I know, but it's only that Gollum character, he's…"

"No need to go on, I know what he's like, just as well as you do. I'll go ahead."

I hurried forward a few paces, slipping past Frodo, and joining the front of our party, almost walking beside Gollum.

Of course, my presence did not go unnoticed by him. "What does it want?"

"Nothing." I shrugged. "It's a narrow staircase you led us too. We can't help it if we run into each other."

"Can't help…can't help…" Gollum repeated me, and then coughed until he couldn't speak anymore.

"If any one of us needed help…" I sighed, tripping a little over the hem of my skirt. '…it would be you' I finished my thought. I glanced down and saw that my skirt had torn in one section, probably long ago. I glanced far back at Frodo and Sam. There was enough distance between us to stop for a few minutes. I seated myself on one misshapen, eroding step. Surprisingly, Gollum slowed his pace and stopped as well. I slung my bag off my shoulder and began rummaging through it.

"Where is it?" I searched along the bottom of my bag.

"What's it looking for?" Gollum asked.

"Nothing too special." I answered. My fingers found the objects that the search was for. "Just these." I opened my palm to display a needle and thread. "I brought them with me, thinking I'd help make more tablecloths for the festivities we were having in the Shire." I snickered, recalling I had done no such thing, gallivanting off. But I was glad that my simple needle and thread, and one of my few ladylike talents with sewing, would be of some use. I turned my attention fully to the mending at hand. "Poetry, penmanship, and pin needles." I muttered under my breath. "That's what Grandmother said my ladyship skills amounted too, though she also said I showed great talent in them."

The hole in my dress was closing as the thread which had once been a crisp white (now a sort of grey that one would find on pigeon wings) began to pull the rent fabric together again.

"Amazing how I can be sitting on something so steep, it's almost as though I am standing upright, and yet I can still manage a straight line of stitches." I went on, chatting with myself to help that my only conversation could come from Gollum at this moment. "Kegan would tease me endlessly if he knew."

"Who's to know?" Gollum asked.

"A friend." I answered. "Someone who I hold very dear…though he would also tease me of that if he heard it." I glanced upward at the endless stairs. "How much longer do you think we'll be at this? Days? A week?" The stairs seemed to wind slowly up the cliff, and then to stretch further along the wall of rock, and then ascend higher, maintaining the same steep incline with every step.

"On it goes…on and on it goes…" Gollum muttered, more to himself than to me, but I had grown used to such frustrating responses.

"A week then." I nodded. "More or less and then…" I sighed. "Onward to Mordor." I couldn't help but notice some part of Gollum seemed to flinch at the mention of Mordor, despite the landscape matching his character so well.

It took me a few stitches and a moment of uncomfortable silence while the creature gazed emptily at our path before I recalled something said long ago. Gandalf's voice through the front door of Bag End. The night all this could be said to have begun. The detail had not stuck with me at the moment, my chief concerns being Frodo and not being found out for listening in on the private matter. But I recalled it now…Gollum tortured for the information that placed Frodo in danger to begin with, in Mordor.

I felt something for Gollum again. Not sympathy. I could not find that emotion within me. Some part of me didn't care, the detail taking on a story like element. Something that removed the details from me or made it sound like it had happened long ago, such distances breaking its effect. But there was brief pang of something in my chest for the creature. Something that spoke of his pathetic nature, and his long held suffering from the Ring, and his entire miserable life.

Pity.

A dangerous feeling of pity.

I grimaced. How dare I pity such a wretched creature?! The very reason I was here, far from home, and watching my friend undergo the burdens of this journey was because this creature refused to die under all his torment, and instead blurted out the name and address that would endanger us all.

Anger very quickly replaced pity. I was angry with Frodo for forming such an attachment to the beast, I was angry with myself for not saying anything and not finishing the creature off when I had the chance to, and overwhelmingly, I was angry at Gollum for his own existence.

He turned back, finally snapping out of his empty spell, and seeing the thinly veiled hatred on me face, which only seemed to deepen when I had to look him directly in the face.

I detected a snarl from him, also barely hidden.

"What does it want?" Gollum asked, his tone taking on a growl like quality.

"I should be asking you the same thing." I said tensely. "What do you want, coming back to this place?"

There was no verbal response, only a hard, intense look and an annoyed sniff.

"You do know we're destroying that precious token of yours?" I asked outright.

He jolted at my question, giving the clear impression that he hated the thought. I caught his reaction. "This journey will end, and soon." I said. "The path is getting shorter every hour."

"I will help Master."

"You say that, but I have trouble believing you." I replied. "Frodo doesn't need your help anymore. When we reach the top of this ridge, we may even be able to see Mount Doom on the horizon. And then what will happen?"

Gollum suddenly found it very difficult to look me in the eye, and I found my temper growing and fueling something in me that was making me bold. For once, I felt like I was the one watching Gollum and not the other way around. Now it was his turn to feel my hard gaze and be made uncomfortable under my watch, and fear me. I rose from my sitting position. The stairs were steep and I had to crouch low to avoid swaying too far out and face a deadly fall. "We're going to go into the fires of Mount Doom and cast that dreadful thing…your precious thing…" I spit out the word with venom. "…away for good. The world will be better for it. Finally, all this struggle will be worth it." Gollum began to back away from me, climbing stairs again, and I followed him, step for anxious step. "Just to see that little thing that caused so much pain fall down…" I eyed the edge of the stairs, thinking of how one misplaced foot or a single shove could end this, and my hand reached out a little closer to Gollum. "Fall far, far down and be gone…gone…"

"Fali."

The sudden sound of Frodo's voice caused my knee to slip on the eroding edge of a step and the loss of balance brought me (literally in some ways) crashing back to earth. My head drained itself of it's fiery temper, my foot caught me on the step below, bringing me a pace back from Gollum and my hand caught hold of a solid piece of rock.

I blinked, trying to focus myself again, eyes sweeping up to Gollum, who looked down at me with as though he didn't know what I might do next, and when his eyes lifted to meet Frodo his confidence in his safety returned. He glanced back down again with a bizarre smile. "This way. We climb." He said, and he was off.

"Fali, are you alright?" Frodo inquired.

I turned back to Frodo and Sam. "Am I blocking your way?" I asked, lightly. "Sorry. I was getting far ahead, and thought to stop and mend the hem of this." I plucked at the edge of my skirt. "I didn't want to trip over it, especially at this height."

Frodo nodded. "Let's move on. We must reach a decent cliff to sleep on by nightfall." He excused himself as he stepped carefully past me on the narrow steps and began to follow Gollum. "Be careful." He reminded me. "It's a long way down."

"Oh please, I'm already too worried about you and Sam to think of where my own feet land. Instinct has long taken over, and one can trust that to make it through. Now hurry along, unless you want me climbing over your ankles."

He smirked, and I rejoiced at making him do so after so many days he had been without such humor.

Sam followed and paused to give a hand to set me back on steady feet. "For days it seems like there is a distance between us, and then in small moments, just when I feel hope for him leaving me, it returns." I smiled. "There is hope that one day he may leave all this behind him, scars on both body and mind."

"Did you have any idea what you were doing just now?" Sam hissed at me, strict as an old school professor.

"Climbing up these stairs, what else could I be doing?" I replied.

"It was the way you were climbing up these steps, Miss Fali. All hands and knees, like you were stalking prey…you looked like…"

"No." I shook my head. "How dare you even compare me to him!" I snapped at Sam.

"Let me place myself between Frodo and Gollum." Sam volunteered. "He has a way of upsetting you…" I glared at him and he changed his words. "…of upsetting everyone, it's just his character. You've been around him a bit too long is all. It makes you temperamental."

"You're testing my temper right now too." I added.

"Gollum had that Ring an awfully long time. He's part of it now. The ring has a certain effect on Frodo, maybe Gollum…"

"I am nothing like Frodo. I'm not being corrupted by anything." I shook my head. "I don't have the same weakness that my family had before me."

"I never mentioned anything about your family." Sam said.

"Not aloud." I retorted, and the rise in the volume of my voice made me quiet myself. "Oh." I said. "Oh no. Sam I didn't mean to antagonize you."

Sam looked hurt at my aggressive tone, but said, somewhat sadly "Don't worry, it seems everyone's taken to getting frustrated by me as of late."

"Oh don't say that, I was becoming brutal, I should be the sad one here." I sighed heavily. "t seems we'll be tested even more, Samwise. If this is our first taste of what Mordor will bring us, we can't climb these stairs fast enough."

"Frodo will be getting worse I expect, and that's the thing that's truly sad." Sam said.

/

From the youngest of ages Frodo could only recall there being one voice in his head. The one that sorted out his daily thinking, had pondered over problems during his schooling, and more than a few times provided a witty remark which he had kept silent out of politeness. But now more and more, he found there being…other…voices. Strange, grim whisperings that buzzed along the back of his skull and drowned all thought at times. At first they had rattled his nerves, but now it happened with such frequency he had learned to live with it.

Increasingly, there seemed to be a second voice, one that came forth unexpectedly at times. Something that sounded like one he had all his life but filled with more anger. A first he thought it was only himself growing more temperamental. The uncomfortable circumstances of traveling were good enough evidence, surely this could shorten the temper of anyone. But now he was unsure. One moment he would be thinking and the two voices would speak overtop of each other, until one was eclipsed by the other.

One was kind, one was fiendish.

One knew friendship, and the other did not understand it.

One was focused on what happening around him and the other could think of only what he wore around his neck.

On and on they fought to be heard.

More and more it was the fiendish one that was winning out.


	48. Chapter 47 (Rohan calls for aid)

**To the 'silent guest' sorry for not updating frequently (at all). Don't worry, I haven't given up writing, it's just slowed to a snail's pace over the last few months. But don't worry, slowly but surely it will be finished. As for now, I kicked it up a notch and finished this bit. Please enjoy :)**

"Higher Gideon, you must reach higher if you wish to make any impact." Eowyn corrected me, swooping in and lifting my hand herself. I fought the urge to frown or worse, roll my eyes, at her. Over the last few days Eowyn had slowly evolved from being merely an observer of my drills, to being a teacher.

"Aragorn taught me this way." I said.

"Well you'd have a much better chance of striking the heart if you reached up just a degree more."

"But that leaves this side too open." I motioned to my ribs and torso.

"You'd have a shield to defend that side."

Apparently, I had started a debate.

"Ah yes…a shield, a very large, very heavy shield sized for someone taller than me." No doubt my face held as much sarcasm as my voice, despite better efforts to remain respectful.

Eowyn gave a small huff at my statement. "Alright, I see what you mean now."

"Yes, let's forget about cumbersome shields…in which case there is nothing preventing my presumably taller opponent from grabbing a knife and sinking it into my side." I went on. "It would be so conveniently close too, all he'd need to do is drop the weapon a little ways."

This final remark earned me a smart knock on the back of my head. Eowyn delivered it with just enough force for a few lights to snap in front of my eyes. "I said that I saw your point already, there's no need to go on about it."

"There was also little reason to slap me upside the head." I muttered back. Whatever spirit the other women in my life, my mother, sister, friends, were composed of, Eowyn also seemed to be created from. There was no escaping snide remarks, well meant criticism, and headaches from such blows. "How very ladylike." I added, summarizing my thoughts in the statement.

This at least earned me an amused smile. "Start again, I interrupted you." Eowyn said, taking up her position as my instructor again. To her credit, she sat down along the wall, giving me plenty of space to practice, and remained quiet as I focused on my work, watching me carefully to see where I had improved and where I was still lacking.

As I continued my drills Merry passed by the grounds, still looking very alone without Pippin by his side. "Care to practise, Merry?" I called out to him. The hobbit looked across to me, smiled, nodded, and soon took up a sword of his own. I switched from practise to instruction of my own.

Merry was improving himself, for all his mischievous tricks and carefree nature, he was a quick learner. Presently, he was being quick on his feet, and mindful of guarding his sides. "Well done." Eowyn commented her seat.

"Of course she doesn't tell you to aim higher." I said under my breath.

"Why would I aim higher?" Merry asked.

"Don't mind that, you're doing fine."

"Has there been any word from Gandalf and Pippin?" Merry asked what was on his mind.

"No, there's no word from Rohan yet. But it's only a matter of time before some message arrives." I placed my hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "I'm sure Pippin is fine."

"Master Gideon!" Aragorn called to me from the opposite end of the grounds.

"More practice." I said. "Ask Eowyn to spar with you, she's very good, and she'll go at your pace."

"Aren't you tired of so much sword fighting?" Merry asked me as I turned to go off with Aragorn.

"There's not much else to do until we finally get word from Rohan or tire of waiting." I shrugged. "Besides, I fear that Gimli will wear me into the ground, trying to train me to use an axe again." I sighed. "Whether it's the 'weapon of my homeland' or not, it's bloody heavy."

I left Merry to spar with Eowyn, who was happy to offer her instruction to the bright new student. Aragorn patiently waited for me to make my way over, but held his hand up to stop me when I reached back to my belt for my sword. "Not now." He said. "Today we try something else."

"Something else?" I raised an eyebrow.

He nodded, leading the way, and I pleaded inside my head that we would not enter some small courtyard or empty room and find Gimli with an axe, all too eager to start up where we had last left my training with that weapon.

Most surprisingly, we did not wander toward courtyards or rooms of any kind, but rather left through the gates of the village and into the hills just outside.

"I suppose there's going to be a lot more running around this time, if we're outside the gates." I speculated.

"On the contrary, there won't be much running around at all." Aragorn said. "I only thought you'd want to learn something different after so many hours of the same thing." He then plucked a budding stem from the ground. "This is-"

"Camomile." I interrupted. "An easy one, really."

"And do you also know what it's used for?"

"Stomach pains, toothache, things like that."

"And what about this one?" He bent down to select a plant that closely resembled a thistle.

"Great Burdock. It's used for infections of the throat and skin."

"And that?"

"Feverfew, of course. The name summarizes what it does pretty well."

"How does someone who was born under a mountain know so much about herbs like these?"

"It's all in books." I responded. "And one of my uncles was a healer by trade. How did you learn about these things?"

"I had to learn it all before I became a Ranger."

"I suppose the lesson you had planned is no longer needed. If it's been written about, I know it."

"There is more you could learn still." Aragorn said. "Come along."

We then walked over to an outpost, which surveyed the mountains before it. As we ventured there Aragorn would occasionally point down at another plant and ask me of it's name and properties, as if testing my statement that if knew of all medicinal herbs. But my Uncle Oin's old books had left me very informed, as I had promised.

"Tansy, it's used for aliments of the stomach and liver."

"So if it were any old day in late summer..." Aragorn began.

"Not by then." I added, seeing his trick. "Unfortunately it has toxins, and by then they're too concentrated and can do harm and not good."

He nodded. "So you do know plenty of this subject."

"I've studied maps too, old ones kept below the libraries and the new ones."

"So if you were cast anywhere in Middle Earth you could find your way from one point to the other?" Aragorn asked.

I shook my head. "No. There's still quite a difference between looking at a map and actually walking the distance yourself…we should know that quite well by now."

Aragorn took up his position against the wall of one of the outpost buildings, glancing over the mountain before turning his attention back to me. "Do you see that large rock buried in the ground just over there?" He nodded at the stone.

"Do you mean to tell me it also has medicinal properties?" I joked lightly.

"No." He answered, such humor falling flat this time. "Kneel down and place your ear against it."

"What?"

"Place your ear against it." He repeated.

He was serious, as he always was when he was instructing me, and though the action seemed absurd I listened.

"What do you hear?"

"Nothing." I replied.

"You should be able to hear something." Aragorn said. "Sounds are amplified under water, and more through solid matter."

I concentrated, hearing only the faintest of sounds, scuffling really, which made me think it was only me lightly scraping at the stone as I tried to find some sound to begin with. "There is still nothing." I told Aragorn.

And I must look rather foolish practically snuggled up against a rock, I thought to myself.

"Try closing your eyes, it helps to focus."

"You're sure this works, yes?" I asked, just to be sure, raising my head.

"It does." He nodded. "Now try again."

My head was lowered back down to the rock, and I closed my eyes, trying to concentrate. For a few stretched out minutes there was nothing still. "I think I can make out only my own movements when I brush against the rock." I said. "Apart from that, there is nothing else that I can hear." I paused. There was the sound resembling a muffled thud, followed by other such sounds, until they grew quieter, more distant, and faded altogether. During this time I was very still, making sure not to interrupt the noise with my voice, and when it stopped I finally opened me eyes.

"Well, I see what you mean now. You do hear things, if they give enough impact. I suppose what I just heard were footfalls, and rather heavy ones. Someone must be in a hurry." I glanced behind me to where Aragorn was standing. Or rather, where he was supposed to be standing, his place was now vacant. A look in the other direction revealed that my instructor was running in a direct line for the great hall.

"I suppose the person in a hurry is you." I muttered, rising from the ground. Briefly I wondered if Aragorn had run off just for the sake of producing noise that could be heard through the earth, but the idea seemed foolish. I finally heard the commotion behind me, as men started speaking in louder voices, calling to one another.

"The beacon, look! Send word! Quickly!"

The beacon was lit, and I spun around, eyeing over the little dot of flame glowing in the distance.

Well, it looked like we were finally getting that message from Rohan that Merry wanted.

"They call for aid!" Someone shouted.

Old nerves kicked in again, as I realized what 'aid' meant. Armies, teams of men and horses and weapons, all of which had to make it safely and quickly over to Rohan. I hoped their situation wasn't too troubling, but the use of such beacon seemed to suggest otherwise.

I took off running on the same path as Aragorn. In the process I almost tripped over my own feet twice in my hurry, and nearly crashed into a child who was about my size in height. The doors of the hall were already flung open when I climbed up the steps. I stopped myself in the doorway to catch my breath.

"Rohan will answer." I heard through the blood pounding in my ears from exertion. Theoden then turned to the men around him and began dividing tasks, as people departed down various corridors to convey messages and gather supplies.

"We're leaving now?" I asked, the latter word sounding a bit more like a gasp with my laboured breathing. "How soon?"

"With any luck in a few short days." Theoden answered me, though he didn't have the time to turn around and face me yet, he was still motioning for different people to go off in different directions, assigning their duties. "We must hurry, we do not know the circumstances of the beacon lighting. We must assume it's an urgent matter."

I wished again that we could know just as desperate the circumstances were.

"Gideon, you find the others, tell them the beacon is lit. See that they are prepared to leave when Theoden gives the word."

"Yes." I nodded, running back down the stairs without a further word and running back to the training grounds where I had left Eowyn and Merry. I found the two locked in a lively spar. Merry's footwork was clumsy, changing direction too much and at times unbalanced, but quick. Eowyn was performing well, and being a good sport, her skill matching Merry's for his sake, though I trusted her potential was greater. The otherwise empty grounds echoed with excited yells, and quick remarks, and the odd correction.

A shame I had to put an end to such fun for the two of them. "The beacon's lit." I coughed out, clearly my throat and repeating the message more clearly. "The beacon has been lit. We have word from Rohan."

"They call for aid?" Eowyn asked.

I nodded. "Yes, I'd hurry and gather what you need, it looks as if we will be leaving as soon as we are able. Your uncle has already begun to organize his men and supplies. It won't be long."

"If you both would excuse me." Eowyn made her rushed excuse and went flying toward the hall, no doubt to help her uncle.

"What do we do now?" Merry asked.

"I'll find the others, they should know and quickly. Go and pack your bag Merry. We'll be traveling again soon."

"But I was getting hungry…"

"Now, Merry!" I snapped at the hobbit.

/

"So this is an army camp." I mused, looking around at open fires, white tents, and a mix of men and horses walking in all directions.

"Where do you think they've stored the rations?" Merry asked me.

"Honestly, it's as if we haven't fed you since we left." I sighed.

"I can't help it, all that practice with the sword makes me hungry."

I was about to reply with 'Breathing makes you hungry', when one horse quite close to us rolled it's eyes, flared it's nostrils, and tried to rear up on it's hind legs. The horsemaster leading the animal held firmly to the reins, stroking the horse's nose, and pulling it along.

"There goes another one." I said, my conversation turning toward Gimli and Legolas. "All day more men have been arriving, and all day their horses have been acting as though a snake is in their path."

Merry, seeing the conversation had shifted, got up to fill his stomach. "Go see if Eowyn can help you…" I said. "Just make sure you don't eat anything she cooked!" I added quickly, remembering the awful soup (if it could be called soup at all).

As the hobbit walked past the tents more of the normally calm horses tried to rear again.

"You are right, the horses have become restless…and the men are quiet." Legolas said.

"They are growing nervous in the shadow of the mountain." Eomer said, as he passed by with his own horse.

The mountain before us was a grim specimen. If it was possible for stone to decay such as a tree does, then such a state described the mountain perfectly. There was a solitary path that looked like it hadn't been traveled in decades that led into the mountain, and apart from that there was no other visible means of traveling that way.

"What road is that?" Gimli asked, our focus being drawn to the shadowy trail, as though our gaze was pulled there. "Does it lead anywhere?"

"That is the road to Dimholt, the door under the mountain." Eomer answered. "None travel it though…at least they do not return. The mountain is considered evil."

"Well…" I said, fighting off superstition. "Evil certainly summarizes how it looks."

We all stared down the path again. "Do you really think it could be haunted?"

"We've faced orcs, wargs, and a monster made of fire and brimstone…" Gimli said. "And you choose now to start fearing ghosts." He scoffed.

"We've seen a walking tree, anything could be possible." I defended myself.

Aragorn approached then, looking off-put. "Has something happened?" I asked. Aragorn was quiet. "Aragorn?" I spoke up again, more loudly. His attention turned to me. The problem was clear. It was unspoken until this point, but reality was before us now, with the last of the army arriving. "How many men are there?" I asked.

"Not enough." Aragorn sighed.

"We've survived with not enough before." Legolas said. "Numbers should not phase us."

Our attention was drawn once more to the ominous road. "Let's go find some supper." Gimli broke the silence.

"I suppose our best chance is to find Merry." I tried to find some humor.

"I saw him being taken by Eowyn to find some armor." Aragorn said.

"I'll go and save him." I said.

I found Eowyn with a pile of helmet and breastplates at her feet, holding up chainmail against Merry, trying to find one which would fit him best. "Hungry, Merry?" I asked, rhetorically.

I told the hobbit to run off, which he did, forgetting to pardon himself. I turned to go, but Eowyn, with surprising force, grabbed me by the shoulder. "I think this will fit you." She said.

"Armor for me?" The bits and pieces that had been pulled together for the battle at Helm's Deep hadn't been optimal, but it had sufficed. "It's no use Eowyn, there's no armor sized right for people the height of Merry and I."

"Stand up straight with your arms out." My words fell on deaf ears, as the lady sized me for armor, withholding me from supper. It took a solid hour, with some pieces being sent off to the smiths to be shortened, and then returned later.

"Now if only we could find you a shield…"

"Do you not remember what I said about shields?" I rolled my eyes.

"Oh yes." She shook her head at them. "Too heavy." She turned around and admired her handiwork. "Well." She smiled proudly. "You look like a true warrior now."

"As well I should with so much armor on."

"Do you want to see what you look like?" Eowyn asked.

"Did you happen to bring a looking glass with you when we left so quickly?" In all honesty I was curious as to what I looked like, if only because I hadn't seen my image for such a long time.

"Come on." Eowyn led me to a watering trough for the horses. I stared at my reflection for a long moment. I had felt my growing beard, but hadn't seen it yet. I had changed.

"I look like my great-uncle Thorin." I said. "Before his hair turned grey…younger still I suppose, but still…"

"You seem surprised."

"I was always told I resembled him, and I knew I had some of the same features as him, the dark hair and my nose…but now I look so much like him."

"You must find yourself rather handsome, you just keep staring at yourself."

I couldn't help it. I had changed.


	49. Chapter 48 (The army of the dead)

"Well, what do you think?" I asked. With Eowyn's time spent outfitting me in armor I had to forgo the plans for supper with the rest of the Fellowship. Merry had met me among the men earlier, gave his compliments, and was passed along to Eowyn's tent where he awaited his own turn to be covered in chainmail and other metal. "It took ages, but the lady Eowyn managed it." I said. "Can't say my stomach didn't suffer for it though. Is there anything left from supper?"

I glanced up from my reflection on the armor, and noticed Legolas and Gimli were outfitted with weapons, and packing bits of food and supplies. "That doesn't look like it's for me." I said, as Legolas tucked some rations into a pack. "What happened?"

"Aragorn's leaving for the path under mountain. There are not enough men to fight."

"So he plans to go off and find more." Gimli cut in.

"He's trying to depart this evening, secretly if he can." Legolas answered me.

"And we are going with him?" I asked.

"He has not requested us to come with him."

"So it's meant to be a secret from us as well…how did you figure it all out?"

"He's not been very discreet with his own packing up and saddling of his horse." Gimli answered. "Can't say I blame him for not minding how many people see him…word arrived from Rivendell with news of the Lady Arwen."

"She's ill." Legolas replied as Gimli packed away a few knives. Where once the two had done nothing but bicker, they were now incredibly able to move around the same tent to pack for a journey and complete each other's conversations.

I frowned slightly. "I'm sorry to hear that." I replied. "I have only met her in passing but I know how close her and Aragorn are."

"Her fate rests with that of Middle-Earth now."

I sighed, heavy hearted. "Then she must be in a fragile state indeed."

"You're not required to come, lad." Gimli interrupted again. "We won't be bringing Merry along, he's not used to such journeys with all the soft treatment he got from the Ents. But I'm sure he'd welcome your company here if you choose to stay back."

"If the three of you are going, then I am too." I said. "Gimli, help me remove this armor. The noise of it rattling will wake all the dead if we are not careful." I tried to be light and humorous. "If you stall the packing for a few more minutes I can be ready to depart when you are."

Gimli set to helping remove all the metal. "Shame you could only wear it a short time, it fit you well." He said.

Shame or not, armor was bulky, and would only slow us down. I was packed and set to leave soon, and a small supper was supplied to help fill my stomach. I had many more questions but time did not permit me to ask most of them. Those that I tried to ask, such as what sort of army was hiding in the mountains, fell on deaf ears. I felt that the only reason Gimli and Legolas had seen to getting me soup was to force it down my throat in order to quiet me. The fact that such soup was actually edible informed me Eowyn had not been the maker of it.

"Come, there isn't much time for delay." Legolas hurried me along, leaving only a moment to pick up my things and follow them.

As Legolas went to saddle another horse, being the only one of us tall enough for it, Eowyn burst into the tent. "You too?" She asked, eyeing over my form which had been rid of the armor.

"My apologies, but I do belong with the Fellowship." I answered quickly.

"But you must stay, you must convince him to stay." She looked at me crossly.

"You need as many soldiers as you can, yes I know, which makes our leaving all the more problematic. But we are leaving to retrieve more forces, Eowyn. When we return we'll be of more help."

"But Gideon, can you not try to-" She started, desperate to persuade Aragorn to stay, along with the rest of us.

"You can't try to get poor Gideon to change someone's mind every time he gets to fight and you do not." Gimli said, his voice firm but well meant. "Your place for now is here. His place is with us." He sighed, and added a little gruffly under his breath, "Truth be told if you knew the trouble ahead of us you'd be more than willingly to stay back. Anyone with any brains would."

I ignored such words for the time being, though they did settle into my mind, slowly breeding worries. "Aragorn will not be persuaded otherwise, Eowyn…Arwen, the lady of Rivendell…and his beloved…" I said a little more quietly, "…has fallen ill. I may not know everything about elves, but her health and the well being of Middle-Earth are interconnected now. Regardless of how much of her spirit is tied to the earth, she won't stand much for a recovery if all this world falls into turmoil. He's doing what's best for us all, and her."

Eowyn lowered her gaze, and stepped aside as Gimli exited the tent, nodding farewell. She had accepted that she would have to stay back and that we would be leaving now. That Aragron was leaving for his duty to Arwen and to all. There was nothing she could do to change that. I stepped forward to follow. "I have to go now." I patted her arm. "Let's hope we don't fail your family."

"I will watch over Merry." She promised. "It's the least I can do here…"

"Thank you." I nodded. "You're a very capable woman Eowyn. I wouldn't have confused you for my sister so many times otherwise." This achieved a genuine smile from her, which I returned. "Good luck." I wished her.

"Good luck." She echoed, dipping her head low for a second to press a kiss to the top of my head.

With that fond farewell I had to run a short ways to catch up to Gimli and Legolas. I caught up to Legolas and the horse first, coming near and placing a hand on the animal's side. The elf seemed lost in thought, contemplating the journey ahead. Legolas only looked so serious when something dire lay ahead. Rather than ask him to share his thoughts now, I shut down my growing worries again, and decided to ask him my questions when our travels had already begun and it was too late to turn back.

As expected, Aragorn and Gimli had already met, and Aragorn was trying to get the dwarf to stay behind, assuring him he was not needed this time. Naturally, Gimli wasn't listening to his words. "Have you learned nothing of the stubbornness of dwarves?" Legolas asked, his seriousness fading for a moment as he approached.

Aragorn looked Legolas and I over, as though he had expected us to reveal ourselves at any moment. He probably had been, with Gimli so close by. When he glanced me over I added "Loyal to a fault, unfortunately."

"Might as well face it, we're going with you, laddie."

Aragorn shook his head, but did so to better hide the fact that he was smiling. "Very well." He consented. "To horse, and quickly."

I scrambled up behind him in the saddle. "Eowyn promised to watch over Merry in our absence." I said.

"He is in good hands then." Aragorn nodded. Something in his face told of an interaction between him and Eowyn that had been sad but necessary. I chose to leave such a conversation private and remained quiet as we departed, our exit from camp drawing the attention of many of the men. They called out to us, surprised, and moreover concerned. Our leaving would do little good for the confidence of those going into battle soon. I was glad when the sharp whistling of the wind through the narrow passage drowned out their voices. Theoden and his family were more than prepared to lead the men. I entrusted them to that duty and resolved the four of us to our own.

We left and traveled in the night, which gave the Dimholt road an ominous appearance. The thin trails of moonlight that shone on our path only seemed to make the path seem more dark, and cast the strangest shadows, which swayed and faded often, as whatever trees were present were tossed about in the wind. The horse was tense, and I spent the long hours of the night alternating between trying to rest my own mind, and gently rubbing the hide of the horse to help settle it. When dawn came, it offered little change in the atmosphere. Everything was grey and bleak.

"The only living things I've seen thus far have been all of us." I noted, breaking a silence that had lay between us for the night. "There's not even an insect to be seen."

"What sort of army is there to be found here anyway?" Gimli asked. A question I also had, given the bleakness of the pass.

"One that is cursed." Legolas answered.

Well that explained his earlier silence. The looks Gimli and I were giving the elf read that we required more explanation. "Long ago the Men of the Mountain swore an oath to the last king of Gondor, that they would come to his aid and fight with him when he gave the word. But when the time came, and Gondor's need was most dire, they failed to keep their oath and fled deep within the mountain. Isildur cursed them, never to rest until their oath was kept."

"So they became immortal, like you? And they just live tormented inside the mountain, waiting for the chance to redeem themselves and die in peace?"

"No Gideon, they were not granted immortality." Legolas said.

"But that would mean they grew old and…"

"Died, yes. Being men their time came to pass and they did. But they cannot rest."

"There is no such thing as spirits and ghouls though." I replied, reciting words my mother had told my siblings and I after nightmares.

The silence that followed was answer enough. There were ghoul like entities inside the mountain and this was the army we were seeking. This was why Aragorn had wanted to go alone, he was the heir, he was the one they would answer to. Who knew how such an army, if it actually existed, would respond to the rest of us?

"They will keep the oath for you, won't they?" I asked Aragorn. He was the heir by blood, but he had always been wary of accepting that title.

"Let us hope so." Aragorn said.

"Who shall call them from the grey twilight?" Legolas recited an ancient prophecy. "The forgotten people. The heir of him to whom the oath they swore. From the North shall he come. Need shall drive him. He shall pass the door to the Paths of the Dead."

Well it certainly sounds as though it is Aragorn they are speaking about, I though. Though the prophecy mentions nothing of this heir bringing companions. Let us hope we are not harmed by this army.

I refused to worry myself about ancient writings, and whom and whom not they mentioned, Luckily, it was not long before we reached a door that resembled that of an entry into a tomb. It was even adorned with numerous skulls, with empty eye sockets focused on us.

"Charming." I breathed. Under my hand I could feel the horse's muscles tightening, more tense than ever.

Around the doorway were old runes beyond my skill to read. Legolas dismounted and inspected them more closely. "The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead and the dead keep it. The way is shut."

"Gimli…do you suppose they made the doorway out of their own skulls?" I asked. I only asked out of curiosity, as the undead army had to get the skulls from somewhere, but my abrupt question just seemed to unsettle Gimli, who demanded to know where all the sense in my mind had gone, and then shivered as though ice water had been poured over him.

The wind howled again, this time whistling through the cave entrance, and having an oddly human sound to it, as though a warning was being groaned at us by the wind. This was the final disturbance that the horses could stand and they rolled their eyes back in fear, reared slightly, and raced off, deserting us despite all the loyalty they had previously shown.

"Brego!" Aragorn called for his own horse, but the poor creature was already too far away and too afraid to hear his command.

"Do not blame them, they sense the danger." Legolas said.

Now there was only one path for us to take. It was useless to go back, as the camp would have moved out at dawn, which had already passed. Without the horses we could make any extensive journey. The door under the mountain was our only choice.

"I do not fear death." Aragorn said, quite bravely, and then entered the mountain, his figure soon disappearing, absorbed by shadows.

Legolas soon followed, quiet and determined. I glanced over my shoulder at Gimli. Shaking off the chill the strange wind had given me I entered, my first footsteps rather forced.

"Well this is unheard of…an elf going underground where a dwarf dare not! I'll never hear the end of it." He sighed, and then I heard his footsteps racing behind me. Gimli barreled into my side in his rush, causing me to fall to the ground.

"Gimli!" I rebuked him. "Watch out, will you?"

Gimli mumbled an apology, and helped me to my feet again. The dust which I had disturbed in my fall refused to settle back to the ground, and instead wafted close to us.

Our path was a dark one, and we stayed close together, having only one torch which Aragorn had made. There were alcoves along the path which were piled high with more and more skulls. "Exactly how large was the army that hid in here?" It was useless to count the bones, and they were too many for me to even venture a guess.

"Quiet, Master Gideon." Aragorn said, too which I remained silent.

"What do you see?" Gimli asked, staying behind us all.

"I see shapes of men and horses." Legolas answered. I did not see anything. There were too many chills going up and down my spine already. If I saw a mouse I would have startled, let along the image of a man and horse.

"Where?!" Gimli demanded.

"It is like seeing pale banners made of cloud, or spears like winter-thicket through mist, everything is shrouded…" He answered. "The dead are following, they must have been summoned."

"The dead…summoned?" The dwarf sounded worried, but then his throat cleared and he stated "I knew that. Very good." Gimli didn't know much about ghosts, but he was being incredibly brave, for which I admired him. I had taken to shivering now and could not seem to stop.

The dust that would not settle was now taking shape. For a second I thought it was only my mind trying to make shapes of men and horses, but then I saw what appeared to be a skeletal hand made of mist grab hold of my ankle. I shook off it's grasp and then looked up and froze as I noticed hands, in fact entire arms trying to take hold of Aragorn and Legolas. I raced ahead a few paces, leaving Gimli to blow and puff at the hands reaching out to him, and took up my place beside Aragorn closer to the light.

"Do not look down." Aragorn warned, as my boot went through the jaw of one skull. From there on our footsteps were punctuated by the cracking of skulls.

The cave like tunnel opened up into a hall, with a gate at one end, endlessly adorned with skulls. The wind rose, and soon human-like words could be heard again, becoming more and more clear until the words "Who enters my domain?" could be heard.

The mist began to have a human form. I envisioned the person that would appear would look something like a corpse, and this proved to be true. There were remnants of skin stretched over bone, and petrified, his eyes were clouded over, and fairly transparent, with something of a greenish hue. I stopped shaking. The king of the undead looked just as I had pictured him, so there was little in his appearance to surprise me.

"One who will have your allegiance." Aragorn stepped forward to the corpse.

"The dead do not suffer the living to pass."

Perhaps it is because we broke so many of their skulls, I thought grimly. Surely such disrespect, though it could not be helped, had angered them.

"You will suffer me!" Aragorn replied with conviction.

While his words would have stirred passion into any man that was living, among the dead it earned only a cruel laugh. As the king's laugh rang through the hall, an entire city of the dead was revealed, hanging on the walls like carpets of moss with their eerie green glow. The dead soldiers wafted down from their balconies and marched through the hall until they encircled us completely. My nerves were jolted and I unsheathed my blade, holding myself in a ready stance. I did not know if my face looked as confident as my frame, but I tried to stare up at the ghouls with a steady gaze.

"The way is shut." The king repeated the inscription at the entrance. "It was made by those who are dead, and the dead keep it." The petrified flesh around his mouth pulled back, stretching over the bones more, decayed muscle being forced to move into a grim smile. "The way is shut. Now you must die."

Death was also something I had anticipated when I entered the mountain, and perhaps this was why I did not grow more fearful than | already was. The ghosts approached us, coming forward. Legolas fired an arrow, but to no effect. The arrow sailed through the head of the king, leaving no mark. One could not kill something already dead.

"I summon you to fulfill your oath." Aragorn was not deterred and stood where he was, even as the rest of us all took a step backward, wary.

"None but the king of Gondor may command me!" The King of the dead shouted back, coming nearer. The corpse pulled a sword from his belt, and swung at Aragorn. The move was a simple one, as if striking down an animal that could not fight back. But Aragorn took up his own sword and blocked the blade easily. All were surprised to see the blades meet, when it had been expected that one would sail straight through the other.

"That bind was broken." The king argued.

"It has been remade." Aragorn replied, to which he struck again and the king was shoved backward. "Fight with us and regain your honor. What say you?"

They stared down at us, with gazes as empty as the skulls marking the door.

"What say you?" Aragorn repeated.

"Aragorn…" I said warningly. These did not look like people that liked to be pressed, in life or death.

"Aragorn you're wasting your time, they had no honor in life and they have none in death." Gimli spoke up.

Our warnings did nothing as Aragorn tried once more. "I am Isildur's heir, fight with me and I will consider your oath fulfilled. What say you?" He spoke loudly.

Silence.

Dead gazes.

And then the dead king smirked.

The king laughed, the action seeming unnatural, causing jerking motions that looked almost painful, as his corpse tried to sustain the action.

The army around us began to fade, each solider dissolving, like candles blown out.

When we were standing alone again I looked at them all. "What now? History has only repeated itself." Gimli seemed right, they had as much desire to keep their pact in death as they did in life.

"Stand you traitors!" Gimli shouted.

The ground shook, causing us all to sway for a moment.

"Gimli what have you done?" I asked.

Stone cracked, the ground continued to quake and then…

The skulls that adorned the back doorway, and those hidden behind them, broke loose. There were thousands.

"Out!" Aragorn ordered. "Run!"

We raced to the gate, skulls flooding our path. To run through the mess was near impossible. They rained down , building heaps to scramble over, threatening to drown one in their masses. I found myself buried to the center of my chest at one point, and Legolas had to pull me to my feet again by the neck of my tunic.

When my feet hit solid ground again, I didn't stop until we were out of the mountain. I bent myself over a rock, breathless.

I noticed as soon as the others did. Along the river were black ships, and beyond those the cities they had menaced.

I looked behind me, but found Aragorn at his knees for once. I stood, went to his side nonetheless, and said "Come on. There must be something else we can do." I glanced up at Gimli and Legolas. "Surely we haven't run out of ideas yet."

Aragorn nodded, and got to his feet.

The wind rose, and behind us the apparition of the king appeared. I tensed again, feeling a chill go over me.

He stepped forward, but this time appeared calm. I didn't know what to make of his sudden reappearance. Did he bring menace or…

"We fight." He concluded.

Hope.


	50. Chapter 49 (Saying Goodbye)

"You know, I had almost hoped that this would stop." I glanced up at Boromir.

"That's a fond greeting." He smirked down at me.

"Constant dreaming isn't good for ones sleep." I replied. "It's no wonder I wake up tired, I spent my nights talking with people, and walking and climbing mountains." I smiled softly. "Not that your company isn't good, but it reminds me of you too much…the real you, you know…"

Boromir nodded, and no more was spoken of that reality. This was a dream, and no matter how it affected my sleep, it remained a more welcome sight than what lay beyond my eyes in the waking world, presently a drop down a wickedly steep set of stairs. "You look like you're enjoying a nice rest now." Boromir nodded down, where I lay sprawled out on a grassy hillside. "Where are we?"

"The Shire." I said, breathing in deeply and closing my eyes. "Just off the path that runs behind Bag End, before the start of the grove." I let the breath leave me, slowly. "If only you could have really seen it, Boromir. When I was very young, and I wondered what it would be like to live where you could always see the sky, and I imagined something just like this. Erebor had plateaus, and brooks that were fed from high pools in the mountain, and trees, but it wasn't nearly as lush as this."

I opened my eyes, happy to see the image of my friend was still there, standing over me, dressed in white.

"I used to come here in the summers, we'd visit 'Uncle' Bilbo, and Frodo." I said. "I'd look after him."

"How long have you known Mister Frodo?"

"Since he was a child, and I could carry him about with me." I sighed. "Boromir, he used to be different. I wish you could have known him before he changed. He was a sweet boy, and curious, and he could never hurt anyone. He was happy, and he wasn't nearly so standoffish. He loved this place, and his family…he loved in general. He had…feelings. Now everything is gone…just like this place."

"How so? It looks real enough to me." Boromir said.

"To you maybe, but you're not even real. I can't feel the grass, I can't smell the earth, I can't feel the sun. All that's left to my memory is this…just the fact that I laid in the grass like this."

"No, you remember…" Boromir said, his tone a little scolding but not in any serious way. "You're only tired, and perhaps a little scared, not for yourself but Sam and Frodo."

I felt the grass beneath me, soft as a feather bed after nothing but a bedroll.

"You remember it all. You just don't want to recall it because Frodo cannot. And the more he slips away, the more you feel you should hold back, if only to make sure you can still reach him." He went. "An admirable thing to do, princess, but it's taking it's toll on you. You've always had a temper, but that creature just sends your nerves off. And Frodo's diminishing spirits, diminish your own…hadn't you once been the optimistic one?"

I felt the sun over me like a warm blanket and I could smell something fresh in the wind.

"It's unfair for him." I muttered. "Something is going to happen, and soon." I said. "I know it Boromir, that is why I feel I must sort things out in my head, and conjure you up to help me be as clear minded as I can be…something is going to happen sooner or later and I will need to be strong again, strong and rational." I turned my head to the side, and saw a dead wildflower by my face, withering in the sun, it's white petals drying to gold and brown.

"That creature…I hate him, I pity him, and I hate him more." I said. "He plots…I know he does, he must."

"You could have always pushed him off the stairs." Boromir shrugged.

"You're supposed to stand in for my better judgement." I rolled my eyes. "I wanted to, but I couldn't. Frodo stopped me, he is so attached to the pathetic thing."

"It must be the Ring, they've both held onto it before." Boromir answered. "You recall the effect it had on me?"

"You said you were lost…it changed you, twisted your thoughts. And now it does the same to Frodo, only worse, for he has had it's burden on him since the beginning." I looked up at my friend and asked a final question, when I knew he could not possibly answer, but I felt the need to speak aloud. "Do you think he is even the same underneath anymore?"

Before the image of Boromir could even give one word of reply, I was snapped away by loud voices, a disorientating process, where rapid blinking blurred my vision and my weak balance had me leaning a little farther to the edge of the stairs than I would have liked. I gripped at the stone beside my bedroll, which I had slept on in the manner of sitting, rather than laying down, the small space we had found not permitting much else. "What happened?" I asked.

"Sneaking? Sneaking!" Gollum exclaimed. "Fat hobbit is always so polite." The last part of the sentence was uttered sarcastically. "Smeagol shows them the way, the secret way no one else would find…and they say sneak? Very nice friend, nice…"

"Sam." I called to my friend, who was standing over the creature, as I saw when my balance corrected itself and my vision cleared.

"Just trying to figure out what the creature was up while we were asleep, Miss Fali." He reported.

"Asleep? But you were on watch the last few hours, as we planned." I replied.

Sam flushed. "My apologies, my eyes were drifting closed, couldn't help it…" He muttered the apology. He turned then to Gollum. "All right, all right…you just startled me is all. But what are you doing?"

"Sneaking." Gollum answered, to which a felt a sense of worry rise.

"Fine, have it your way then." Sam sighed. He turned to me. "He's always sneaking it seems, can't be helped I suppose. It's become part of his nature."

"Right." I nodded slowly. "Part of his nature."

I looked over a Frodo, who had managed to fall asleep, and get some needed hours of rest.

"Frodo." I touched his shoulder. He didn't stir. "Frodo." I repeated, shaking his shoulder now. He stirred lightly. "Frodo, c'mon." I punched him in the shoulder, lightly of course, and this caused him to awake, looking disoriented as I had probably been.

"Welcome back to the woken world." I smirked, patting his should again.

"Sorry to wake you Mister Frodo, but we have to be moving on now." Sam said.

"It's dark still." Frodo muttered as he raised himself up.

Sam and I replied simultaneously that our current surrounding were always dark.

"Not a very welcoming climate to wake up to, but it could be-"

"It's gone! The elven bread is gone!" Sam, rummaging for a spot of breakfast, filled our stomachs with chills.

My eyes shot to Sam's, and for a second there was nothing but panic expressed between the two of us. "It's probably just under something else." I said, swallowing the tremor in my voice. "Look again Sam, you'll find it."

"There isn't any, Miss Fali. It's all gone!"

"What?" Frodo seemed more alert suddenly than before. "That's all we have left!"

We all looked at each other, hoping one of us would suddenly be able to produce the bread from another bag, but it very quickly became clear that such a thing was impossible.

Sam's eyes narrowed in an uncharacteristically angry look, and he glared at Gollum. "He took it! He must have!"

I didn't need much more convincing, but Frodo looked to be in disbelief. Gollum was rather calm, seeming just insulted. "Smeagol! No, no, no, not poor Smeagol. Smeagol hates the nasty elf bread."

"You lying rat! What have you done with it?!" Sam shouted.

"Sam, calm yourself!" I interjected. "He's not going to give any answers to you!"

"He doesn't eat it, he can't have taken it!" Frodo defended the creature.

"Oh, yes he doesn't want to ever eat it." I said, with venom in my tone. "But I imagine he could manage to swallow it down if he decided to." I turned a fiery glare up Gollum, who stuck out his tongue, and gagged, as though the thought of tasting the bread at all made him sick.

The creature looked up, and his eyes widened in surprise. "Look…what's this?"

Gollum reached out his hand and wiped it against Sam's jacket, littering the ground with crumbs. I stared at them. Lembas bread, they could be nothing else. "Crumbs on his jacketses! He took it! He took it!"

It was like someone had seen my most secret nightmares and was currently building one around me. "Sam?" I asked.

"I didn't Miss Fali!" Sam said quickly. "I couldn't!"

"I've seen him…always stuffing his face when Master is not looking." Gollum added.

"That's a filthy lie!" Sam shot back. Sam suddenly sprang forward and began to strike Gollum relentlessly. It was the most violent display I had ever seen from him, or any hobbit in fact. I wished that such an unusual thing was part of an actual nightmare, but I was entirely sure I was awake.

"Sam, stop it! Stop it now!" Frodo protested, and began to intervene, throwing himself between the two of them to separate them. I blinked, coming out of my worries, and realising that I had been standing there and doing nothing to stop the fight myself.

"I'll kill him!" Sam was furious.

"Sam, no!"

At this point I finally acted, Sam's fury and words startling me. "Calm down." I said, grabbing Sam by his shoulder and pulling him back. I looked at the both of them and it frightened me how little I recognized them now. Frodo taking the side of the creature, and Sam being so furious…these were not the hobbits I had befriended, who I had minded as children, who I had enjoyed such beautiful summers with.

Frodo, in his weakening state, collapsed into the wall of rock behind us from the strain. "Frodo…" I left Sam's side to go to his and check him over. He was a bit pale and short of breath, but only required a respite. "Serves you right, storming into a fight like that…should have let me handle it." I reprimanded him. "Just rest a moment."

"I'm sorry." Sam said. "I didn't mean for it to go so far. I was just so, so angry. I meant to stop and couldn't."

"We understand Sam." I spoke for both Frodo and myself.

"You just rest a bit now." Sam said.

"I'm fine, Sam."

"No, you're not." Sam replied, shaking his head. "You're not alright, you're exhausted."

That I could agree with, though I kept quiet, my mind still reeling from the loss of our rations that we now had to deal with and with Sam's attack on Gollum.

"It's that Gollum…it's this place…it's that thing around your neck."

All three of which I would wipe away if only I could...

"I could help a bit. I could carry it for a while. We could share the load." Sam suggested.

It was like he had held Frodo at sword point. Frodo jerked back violently, shoving at Sam. "Get away!"

I stared at Frodo in shock. "I don't want to keep it! I only want to help you." Sam protested.

"See? Do you see? He only wants it for himself." Gollum hissed, drawing closer to Frodo.

"Shut up!" Sam yelled. "He's lying again! Get away from here! Go!"

"No Sam." Frodo was serious, and I continued to stare at him, in shock, unable to speak for what was happening was too horrible to imagine. "It's you. You have to go."

"Frodo, you don't really mean that do you?" I asked. "It's Sam, he wouldn't harm you."

He looked at the two of us. "I am sorry." But it was clear from his tone, still too serious, that he was not apologizing for an outburst, but that he meant Sam had to leave.

I am dreaming, I thought, I must be. Any moment now Boromir will appear, like some guardian spirit, and confirm it.

But there was nothing but a great emptiness now, and I was between Frodo and Sam, keenly feeling a rift between of them. Sam, trying to maintain an indifferent look the best he could, couldn't stop himself from shedding tears. A practically lifelong friendship had been severed by a golden trinket, a creature, and a missing piece of bread.

What had happened to us?

"Fali." Frodo caught my attention. He motioned further up the path. "We have to keep going."

Gollum was still looking out from behind Frodo, like a small child behind a mother's skirt.

"Come along, Fali." Frodo said when I remained standing where I was, not reacting to the turn of events.

I looked up at my friend, with such pity, and stared at him.

"No." I said, quietly.

"What?" Frodo asked.

"No." I repeated, louder than before.

"I don't understand." Frodo said.

"I am not coming with you Frodo." I said, apologetic but firm. "I cannot. I don't recognize you any more."

"You promised to be by my side. You jumped into the river as Sam did." Frodo's tone was bitter.

"I did." I nodded. "I'm sorry Frodo, but you have changed-"

"You're the one who has changed! You've gone back on your word!" Frodo snapped.

"And it pains me that I have!" I snapped back. I drew in a steadying breath. "I wish I could help you, but you are not the same. If you were at all like yourself right now, if you were like the Frodo whom I had left the Shire and Rivendell with, I might find I could stay."

"So you have given up then."

"Frodo, please…"

"No, you've made your thoughts clear. Someone says something that you disagree with and then you get rid of them. You've always had such a temper, you've always been spiteful-"

"Frodo!" I snapped again.

"Mister Frodo!" Sam echoed from behind me.

"No, you've made you're decision. It's obvious you've chosen who's side you're on."

"I never picked a side, or chose who I would be protecting." I defended myself. "I was here for both of you."

"And now when we are almost there, you decide to leave." Frodo retorted.

"I…I…" I stuttered but found I had nothing I could say that would make this any easier. "I cannot go with you." I finished. "I can't seem to convince you of anything anymore, or defend my reasons. Perhaps you would understand if you were more willing to listen…but if you won't listen then I won't say anything more." I sighed, biting the inside of my cheek to keep my face firm. "And I won't go another step further."

Frodo glared at us for a long moment, then turned, and in the eerie calm he left us.

"Goodbye Frodo." I said to his back. He said nothing, and then a moment later the mist engulfed him and he was gone.

I turned to Sam, who had gotten back to his feet. "Miss Fali?" He asked. "Are you alright?"

I looked at him, apologetic almost. "Let's go Sam." I said. "We can't stay here."

It surprised us both how I could say the words without shedding a tear.


	51. Chapter 50(Saving Rohan)

It should have frightened me how easily we were able to move on from one of our lowest points to one of our better. It could have easily been the other way around. As it was right now the lower compartments of our stolen ship were filled with ghosts, I reminded myself. That, and I should perhaps be more concerned that our stolen ship was filled with ghosts. Had these ghosts not tried to kill us just before?

Fortune was a funny, changing thing I concluded. I glanced at the hilt of my sword, taking in the image of the otter. Mahal bless my wise mother for giving me the symbol of good fortune for my emblem.

I was watching the water absentmindedly for now, scratching another otter into the side of the ship with the end of a knife. The men previously on board, no match for the undead army behind us, had reminded me of the men from the South I had heard of. And if I knew anything of the South and the people that lived there, it was that they were fierce, all forces to be reckoned with. Vesper had taught me that with her shoving, and quick swings of the sword and sharp jabs in the side with her elbows.

My friend, the 'queen' of the southern colonies, who had beat me in every duel we had since she could hold a sword, then picked me up and brushed me off, if only to repeat the same actions. I sighed, recalling Vesper and the others fondly. The only good thing about there being so many men out here on the river was that it meant there were less of them in the southern regions causing trouble for her.

Perhaps they were here because Vesper had drove them away herself, I thought, amused. I finished the little image of the otter in the wood and gently wiped away the dust with my thumb. I began to scratch in other images, the bear for Fali, the wolf and fox for my brothers.

"Master Gideon." Aragorn stalled my hand as I finished etching in the last hairs of the wolf's tail.

"We're almost there, aren't we?" I asked. Aragorn nodded.

I turned to Gimli, over on the other side of the deck. "What do you expect we will find when we arrive Gimli?"

"Oh, there'll be a hoard to fight through before we even get into the thick of it." Gimli began. "After that we can expect anything, orcs, wargs, who knows? Plenty of targets either way."

Legolas narrowed his eyes on the horizon. "You can probably see the shore…any truth to what Gimli says?"

"They expect a ship, and are gathering where we will dock." He nodded. He then narrowed his eyes at Gimli. "You have no need to build up any fears."

"The lad has been through worse by now." Gimli scoffed. "Right Gideon?"

I shrugged. "I only ask because I know Gimli isn't one to put things gently. If he says it will be bad then I know what to expect…and if it isn't as awful as he makes it sound to be then I shall be pleasantly surprised."

I couldn't help but notice how Gimli had taken our brief respite to sharpen his axe, and Legolas had ensured his quiver was well filled with arrows. "You two are challenging one another again?" The two exchanged a glance full of rivalry, firm but friendly nonetheless.

"Good luck to you both then." I said. "I doubt I'll have the mind to keep count for myself out there."

"Get down, we are approaching the dock." Aragorn quieted us all, and we lowered ourselves out of view. Now the ship truly resembled a ghost vessel, seeming empty.

There was a brief shudder when it stopped, and I held on to the side, gliding my thumb over the symbols I had carved again. There were voices, frustrated ones, approaching the ship. I glanced beside me to Aragorn. "Now?" I breathed.

"Another moment." He replied just as quietly.

We sat silently for a few more seconds, which felt stretched to hours. "Now?" I repeated. Aragorn shook his head, as the voices grew in volume, and the sounds started to resemble actual words. "Surely we can show ourselves now?" I asked after another pause, to which Aragorn did not reply, being too focused on the other voices. Legolas responded instead, by way of giving me a stern look that read quite plainly that I should be quiet. No doubt my whispering was bothersome to him and his keen hearing. 'Sorry' I mouthed the word rather than saying it.

Aragorn announced it was the right moment to jump over the side of the ship and onto the dock by leaping over himself. The rest of us followed suite, throwing ourselves over the side. Legolas landed as silently as a leaf falling to the ground, but Gimli and I made such noise that anyone who was not already staring at the ship now had their gaze transfixed on it. There was a rising laughter from the crowd.

"A pathetic sight we must make right now." Gimli whispered over to me. His beard hid most of his smile, which he couldn't help but reveal. There was a gleeful sort of look in his eyes that gave him away. "They won't be laughing soon."

There was the sound of wind rising as I readied my sword, and then a great wave of greenish mist flowed out from the ship. One or two of the undead actually walked through my body in their rush forward, giving me the sensation of have a cool, damp wind blowing straight through me.

"Onward, to the White City." Aragorn commanded.

"There's plenty for both of us! May the best dwarf win!" Gimli had the gall to cheer to Legolas. He ran off behind Aragorn, with a smile on his face still. All things considered, a remark like that from Gimli showed good sportsmanship.

Running in a sea of ghosts was disorienting. I had not run more than a few feet when a knife flashed in my view and I ducked my head in time to save myself. With everything a blur it was hard to see what was actually coming at you. I swung hard to my left and felt rather than saw my blade strike against someone's ribs. No sooner had that orc been felled then I felt another try to strike at one of my shoulder blades. I escaped by continuing my run forward, hearing a howl from the creature. One of the undead had taken care of him.

One orc charged in my direction, his gaze focused on me, and I jumped backward. In doing so I narrowly avoided his falling body, which collapsed right in front of me, revealing an arrow that had been fired into his back.

"You are falling behind us." Legolas appeared, taking me by the sleeve of my tunic and hurrying me along.

"Can't help it." I replied quickly. "I'm shorter than you and Aragorn…smaller strides…"

I was propelled onward, eventually turned loose by the elf who released my sleeve to fire an arrow, keeping count under his breath. I caught sight of both Gimli and Aragorn and stayed close behind them, swept up by wave after wave of ghosts who flew from one victim to the next. My eyes adjusted to all the movement, and I discerned attacks on me more quickly.

I remembered the lessons from Aragorn well, keeping my guard up, minding the grip on my sword, how my weight shifted. One creature would spring for me and I would strike first, seeking some exposed area, a rib, or throat, or shoulder, and jabbing hard.

I was charged again, but saw my attacker this time. Not waiting, I trusted my aim and upward, stabbing into his hand. The orc screeched so loudly my ears went numb, but he dropped his weapon immediately. I retracted the blade as the creature seemed to keel over his hand in pain. This left my side open to attack, an opportunity another orc quickly took advantage of. I blocked his onslaught narrowly, shaken a little by the force of the attack. The two weapons struck each other so suddenly I almost expected sparks to appear. Rather, my attacker quickly regained his balance, escaping my block and swinging twice more. I hurried backward a few paces, lifting my sword each time to prevent his blade from slicing into my shoulder. When he drew back farther, raising the weapon far above his head in an effort to strike me down, I saw my chance. I stepped quickly to the side and jabbed forward, making contact with his hip at such an angle that I had wounded his abdomen. I withdrew, and the orc took a single step toward me. Already the sword he had raised against me was lowering rapidly, until he faltered, fell to his knees, and then over completely.

Without waiting to see if he was dead, or simply bleeding out where he lay, I regained a steady stance. I looked briefly over my shoulder, to see if there was another attack aimed at me, and to reassure myself that Aragorn and the others were still behind me. They were not. Somehow, we had become separated again in the mess. There was another screech, and my attention snapped forward again. The orc with the injured hand had turned his attention back to me, furious. He stabbed forward, blindly. I was forced to do the same. His sword narrowly missed my side, and I made contact. He hissed and fell, face down.

A wave of ghosts rushed past me, giving me a moment of safety to look around for my friends. From somewhere behind me a heard someone shouting "Twenty three!"

Gimli.

"Gimli!" I shouted. I could not be heard above the noise so I ran closer, shouting his name again with such force I felt my throat burn. I could not tell if he heard me or not, but he happened to look up and see me.

I continued to run. Something slammed into me just before I reached the dwarf, sending me and whoever it was rolling. A snarl very close to my ear informed me it was an orc. A felt a dead weight on me, and cringed, thinking an attack was soon.

"Twenty four!" Gimli smiled above me, and I realised the orc had already received a fatal blow from Gimli's axe before he could even rise enough to stab me.

The creature was rolled off me, and Gimli extended a hand to bring me to my feet. "There you are." He grinned.

"I heard you calling out your count." I grinned back.

"I'm ahead of the elf." He said triumphantly. "And by no small amount either." He added, a little more loudly. I looked behind us to see both Legolas and Aragorn. Gimli was probably proving a nuisance by calling out each time he killed another orc. Legolas could plainly hear him, and I knew he could be just as competitive Gimli.

A dreadful noise, something like the call of an animal but far deeper, rang out. I could feel the vibrations of the sound going through me. "One of those Mumakil's." Gimli warned.

I looked up from the battlefield itself and saw the beasts he spoke of, each laden with soldiers on it's back. They were the size of mountains, and I dreaded being caught under there feet. The earth probably shook with their every step under them.

I was not able to stare for long though. The battle was not yet done, and soon enemies were leaping at me, and I lost myself from the others again.

I was beginning to feel the disadvantage of my height now. One orc, twice as tall as I was, came at me. I ducked from his attack and with a clean stroke cut at his knees. This caused the creature to buckle down. At that height, I was able to swing overhead and stab into his shoulder, killing him.

Someone kicked me in the back shortly after, sending me forward. The grip on my sword was enough so that I did not lose it in the fall. I rolled to the side quickly, as a broadsword struck the ground just where I had been. I stabbed at the creature's leg, wounding him enough to make an escape.

The sound of a Mumakil rang out again, followed by dozens of men shouting at once. I glanced at one of the Mumakil's just as the saddle carrying a small army on it's back rolled off. Had it snapped? Who could manage to…?

There remained a solitary figure on the back of the animal, an archer.

Legolas.

Well whatever Gimli's count was now, the elf had surpassed it. I watched, concerned that my friend actually meant to kill the beast too. The fall of the animal was too unpredictable, and could easily kill him. But there he stood, a small figure at my distance, poised at the neck of the beast. "No…you can't be…just jump off, just jump off…" I muttered under my breath. It seemed the safer option to me, even though jumping from such a height would have caused injury.

But the animal cried out in distress seconds later, and then stumbled, falling head first into the ground, taking hap hazard and heavy steps along the way. Its hulking body swayed dangerously. It looked to be tripping itself. At last it collided the ground, roughly, and sending up such a spray of dirt and dust that I worried I would not be able to see the fate of my friend.

I discerned the figure sliding gracefully down the long nose of the animal, leaping to the ground safely. In front of him was a shorter figure, which was doubtlessly Gimli, who even from far away I could tell was unhappy with the sudden change in score.

My attention was brought back to the fight at hand, which was quickly dying out. The undead had rushed over the field and were now rushing into the White City. I was soon able to walk around without the worry of being attacked, and rather than fighting, I was drifting between the bodies, ensuring they were dead, finishing those who were not, and waving over those who could help our wounded.

The slowing down and eventual end of the battle allowed to think more clearly again. I had made it through, with no grave injuries, only the minor scrapes, bruises and overly exherted muscles. I did not know about the rest of my friends, but believed they were all well. Legolas surely was, or had been a short while ago. He had been showing off in fact. I took a moment to clean off my sword. I still hated the sight of blood, though I found it no longer turned my stomach as much as it once had. It was just the sight of it…so much of it…thank mahal orc blood was at least dark in color. Red stains in the ground spoke of how decent life had been wasted.

I disliked the battle, but I had been glad to save the White City and yet one could not be accomplished without the also doing the other. Was this how Aragorn felt about fighting and saving people as well?

After a time, longer than I had first intended, I set out looking for the others.

I found them eventually, with Aragorn speaking to the dead king.

"Release us." The king said.

"Bad idea." Gimli said, as I came closer. "Very handy in a tight spot these lads…despite the fact they're dead."

"You gave us your word!" The king of the dead hissed.

But Aragorn remained calm, even when the king's voice rose. "I hold your oath fulfilled. Go now…be at peace."

And then every green wisp of a person dissolved, blown away in the wind.

Honour before advantage. Not everyone had such a trait.

"Has anyone seen Master Gideon?" Aragorn asked afterward.

"I haven't seen him since I pulled him to his feet." Gimli said.

"Was that the last we saw him?" Legolas asked.

I began to come nearer, waving my hand, and catching Aragorn's attention.

"No one then?" Gimli asked, sounding actually worried. "So the lad could be…?" His toned turned angrier. "Well that's just…" Gimli was unable to find a decent adjective for the loss of me.

"Gimli." I said.

"The lad comes along with us, dodges everything thrown at him, learns from us all…and for what?"

"Gimli." I spoke louder.

"To be struck down just when we're coming to the end of-!"

"Gimli!" I shouted, coming right up behind him. "I'm alright."

He spun around.

"You were right behind?…you!" He seemed angry at me now.

"They were such kind words too." I smirked. "I'm glad to know you care so much." I laughed at his face, still frustrated with me. "Stop looking so gruff and annoyed with me, I'm alive after all."

This caused both Aragorn and Legolas to hide amused looks.

I looked over Gimli and at Aragorn. "What now?"

"Eowyn!" We heard Eomer shout.

"Eowyn?" I asked. "She fought? But…but didn't Theoden disagree?..."

"He did." Aragorn said, moving past me quickly and hurrying to find where Eowyn was, and what state she was in.

We found her being cradled by her brother. She was hurt, and exhausted. If not for the gentle rise and fall of her chest, she would have been taken for dead.

She was carried back, by Aragorn and Eomer. I followed close behind, seeing Fali in her still, and seeing my mother in her too now. Aragorn bandaged her wounds. At some point Legolas told us that Theoden had died, and the news was only half-heard.

"She'll live?" I asked Aragorn.

"It seems that she will." Aragorn said.

"But are you certain?"

"Gideon you shouldn't worry yourself." He replied.

I stayed by her as she rested. It only seemed right. Aragorn had to move onto other injured men, Gimli couldn't stir me, having to bring word that Merry and Pippin were well. Legolas did not even try to get me to move from my post, instead bringing me food when I did not get up to fetch any myself.

He glanced over Eowyn when he came, surveying the blanket I laid across her, and glancing at her feet. "You removed her shoes?" He asked.

"She did the same for me." I said.


End file.
